Silver & Gold
by Pikkadylli
Summary: First story in the Bridal Bonanza series. Ben Cartwright meets a feisty way station manager...is it possible for love to come into his life a fourth time?  rated M for a few suggestive comments. Read & review, please!


**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: This is the first story in the Bridal Bonanza series, in which I attempt to hitch up all the Cartwright men. A daunting task, I know, given that any woman unfortunate enough to cross romantic paths with said men end up dead or gone from the landscape, never to return. Trust me, I had to hunt high and low for ladies who were willing to take that particular onus on. ;)

The following story—in fact, the entire series—is effectively an _Alternate Universe_-type...I happen to be of the opinion that any fanfiction is automatically AU, and so the precedents set in the TV series on which it's based aren't necessarily so.

The changes in my universe: the six seasons of the show span three years in "real" time and Adam hasn't left the Ponderosa. That means that the ages of the Cartwright clan members are: Ben is 53 (he just celebrated his birthday prior to the story), Adam is 32, Hoss is 26 and Joe is 20. This story begins after the episode "The Patchwork Man", which was the last episode of season #6 of Bonanza.

Beyond that, anything goes.

DISCLAIMER: The following story is a fanfic—that is to say, it's a work of fiction written by a fan without any kind of recompense. It is meant for entertainment purposes only, is in NO way official to the Bonanza continuity, and the recognizable characters from the television series are not my intellectual property. Original characters in the story, however, are creations of mine, as is the story itself. If you wish to archive this story, please ask my permission.

Reviews are welcome—just please be polite.

SILVER & GOLD (Bridal Bonanza Part One) by Pykkadilly

CHAPTER ONE

Tuesday, August 12, 1862

"Dadgummit, Little Joe, you took the last biscuit!" complained Hoss Cartwright, annoyance tinging his voice and expression.

"You've had eight already, Hoss," his younger brother pointed out, not pausing in breaking open the item in contention and buttering one side, "It's not like you need another one."

The youngest two Cartwright brothers argued over the biscuit as their older brother, Adam, and their father finished up their own breakfast. Ben Cartwright, the patriarch of the clan, set down his empty coffee cup and gave the squabbling pair a quelling look.

"That's enough, now, boys." he said firmly. "It's only a biscuit, after all. There's always lunch to make up for any...shortfalls in the meal." Hoss subsided, giving Joe a sour look, but then remembered that Hop Sing—the Cartwrights' Chinese cook and houseman—had mentioned that today's lunch was going to be his special fried chicken, so he brightened up considerably at the thought.

"Adam and I will be taking the horses over to Callahan Station today." Ben told everyone at the table. "That will leave you two—" Here he pointedly looked at Joe and Hoss, "—to oversee the chores here at home."

"Barn roof." Both Joe and Hoss recalled the repairs needed on the structure and spoke at the same time, sharing a grin about the way they'd both so enthusiastically recalled the boring chore that needed to be done.

"Amongst other things." Ben agreed. The men got up from the table and went to their various destinations: Hoss and Joe to the supply shed to get what they needed for the barn roof, while Adam and Ben went to get their horses saddled up. Soon father and son were on their way to the family-run way station with the horses that had been purchased from the Ponderosa.

"I noticed that you didn't have more than a biscuit or two at breakfast, Adam." Ben said to his oldest son as they rode along. "Are you not feeling well?" The tall, dark man flashed a grin, creating dimples in his tanned face.

"No, I'm fine, Pa." he assured Ben. "It's just that, since I knew we're going to Callahan Station, I know that Cassie will have plenty of food there—food I don't have to try to wrassle Hoss or Joe for." His statement evoked hearty laughter from the elder Cartwright.

"Then Mrs. Callahan is a generous hostess?" he asked.

"Cassie is actually...oh, that's right..." Adam interrupted himself, "...you've never been directly introduced to her, have you?" Ben shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry to say, I have not." he admitted. "Which is a bit disturbing, since I believe Mrs. Callahan has been living here for over a year now." Adam nodded.

"Cassandra Callahan has been here since spring of '61." the younger man said. "And...it's _Miss_ Callahan...she came to care for her brother's children after the Callahans died during the winter."

"Such a tragedy, that." Ben replied, his mind's eye envisioning four rather forlorn-looking youngsters ranging from about fifteen down to five.

"True." Adam agreed. "Cassie managed to pull the family together and was the one who created Callahan Station, really. I believe it's been a combination of her being busy getting that started and our own...situations that came up over that time that kept you from meeting her in person." The Cartwright patriarch's lips quirked as the various events that had accounted for the time played through his mind: Adam's courtship with Laura, the adventure Hoss initiated with that box of gold, Muley Jones' visit to the Ponderosa, Ben's getting kidnapped, the fiasco with Square Deal Sam, Joseph's internal battle to conquer his fear of heights—that elephant!—as well as Ben's unfortunate brushes with romance: Katherine and, unintentionally, Joan. The last two remembered times in his life were the actual reason why Ben had been unconsciously avoiding being introduced to any more females.

Still, to not know a neighbor for over a year was almost unforgivable, which is why Ben was accompanying Adam on this particular transaction now—the oldest Cartwright son was more than capable of delivering the horses that had been purchased from the Ponderosa himself, but Ben was now correcting his own shortcomings in courtesy.

"Since you are calling the woman 'Cassie', I assume you're on a friendly basis with her?" Ben asked his son, then his dark eyes narrowed with a canny, hopeful gleam. "Or is it more serious than that?" Adam considered for a moment then shook his head.

"We've been on a first-name basis since last summer." he told his father. "She's a very good friend, but I've never thought of her in a romantic sense." Ben suppressed a disappointed sigh. He had first married when he was about Joseph's age, but he didn't mind that his youngest wasn't married—Joe wasn't even legally an adult yet. He had plenty of time.

However, Hoss was approaching thirty years in age and Adam had passed the mark by two years with his latest birthday. Ben was longing for grandchildren to carry on the Cartwright name and to enjoy before he got too much older himself. Much as he wished for this, though, the Cartwright patriarch knew that any such marriage would have to be the idea of the son that took the plunge, so he wisely didn't push the subject with either Hoss or Adam.

Ben and Adam came up on the station, which was a large log cabin surrounded by a corral to one side, another log cabin on the side opposite the corral and a barn to the rear of it. The Cartwright men rode up on the station, greeted by a tall, gangly teenage boy with sandy blond hair and blue eyes. Ben reckoned him to be maybe seventeen or eighteen years of age.

"Good morning, Zach!" Adam greeted the boy. "This is my Pa...we're here with those horses your aunt bought." He nodded at Ben as he made the introductions.

"Howdy, Adam!" Zach replied, then gave Ben a short bow. "Howdy, Mr. Cartwright...if you'll just follow along this way, we can put the horses in the corral over here." Zach hurried over to the corral, opening the gate and helping the two riders get the animals into the space. The lad was securing the gate after that task was accomplished when suddenly a little boy of about seven years came running pell-mell from around the corner of the station, shrieking with laughter and waving his arms, closely followed by a little girl of perhaps the same age, screaming herself and waving a stick about in the air. Ben and Buck were closest to them, and the horse reared up a bit, stomping around at the unexpected spectacle.

Ben reined Buck in, fighting to keep his mount under control, frightened that the horse might accidentally stomp on the youngsters. Fortunately, however, between Ben's horsemanship, Buck's smarts and the fact that the two children had screeched to a halt and become silent, any catastrophe was averted. It was the fact that it had been such a close call as well as the relief that nothing bad had happened that prompted Ben to bellow out:

"Hellfire and damnation! You two could have been _killed!"_

"Are you both all right?" Adam asked, dismounting quickly. "Gabriel? Naomi?" The little boy and the little girl each nodded respectively. They both possessed light brown hair and their eyes were the same blue hue as Zach's, so Ben deduced that all three were siblings. He looked over the children as well, thankful to the Lord above that nobody had gotten hurt.

"Who dares to shout obscenities at my children???" demanded a female voice from behind Ben, who was glaring at the youngsters in order to make sure that they were, indeed, unharmed.

"Your children nearly got themselves trampled—" the Cartwright patriarch snapped, turning around in his saddle to address the female speaker, locking his exasperated brown glare with—

—a pair of depthless silver-gray eyes that made him completely forget what he was talking about. Ben blinked, his own brown eyes raking over the woman from head to toe. She was average height, average weight—although perhaps a bit on the skinny side—with clear, slightly-tanned skin. There were two immediately noticeable features about her: she had a beauty mark about one inch or so to one side of her mouth, so that it was on her right cheek...and her hair appeared to be silver and gold.

"—ma'am." Ben managed to remember to complete his sentence, although the last word of it didn't come out with the heat or force of the first part. Adam glanced sharply at his father, then tipped his hat at the lady.

"Cassie." he said, then made the introductions. "Pa, this is Cassandra Callahan. Cassie, this is my Pa, Ben Cartwright." Ben dismounted and removed the hat from his head.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Callahan." the older Cartwright said mildly, thinking idly that the sun, when it struck her head, was what made her hair glitter. She was apparently a pale, golden blond with lots of gray in her hair, but not the dull gray that most aging people got—it was a soft silver-gray, almost metallic. When the light struck her hair just right, her head seemed to glitter like silver and gold. Cassie arched an eyebrow at Ben.

"I wish I could say the same, Mr. Cartwright." she replied. "Such language!" Ben blinked and then scowled, ready to point out the circumstances under which he'd had his unusual lapse of manners, when the woman turned her head away from him.

"Gabriel! Naomi!" Cassie ejaculated sharply. The two youngsters halted—they had been attempting to sidle away from the scene while the adults were occupied. "I didn't give you permission to leave yet."

"Are you two all right? You frightened me out of my wits!" Ben asked, concern rife in his voice and very stance. The children nodded somberly, each of them adding a mumbled "yes, sir" to their affirmations. Cassandra Callahan fixed her eyes upon the boy. 

"Now...Gabriel...please tell me what happened?" The boy drew in his breath.

"Mama—" he began in earnest indignation, "—Naomi slapped me an' chased me with a stick an' I had to come runnin' out here an' I scareded the horse an' Mr. Cartwright used _naughty words!"_ As Gabriel said his piece, Ben couldn't help but exchange amused glances with Adam because the girl had been making expressions of affronted dignity and stomping her foot while her brother spoke. Cassie nodded, thanked her nephew, and then turned to the female child.

"Naomi, please tell me what happened?" she asked.

"Mama!" Naomi fairly squealed in righteous anger. "Gabey grabbed Betsy an' I hit him so he dunked her in the mud—"

"Did not!" insisted Gabriel

"Did to!" countered Naomi.

"Did _not!"_

"Did _to!"  
__  
"Enough!"_ Cassie cried sharply, and the argument was silenced. "Gabriel, you had your turn to speak—now it's Naomi's turn. Go on, Naomi." The girl shifted, now looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Well...I...I...I grabbed a stick an' chased after him an'...an' I didn't see Mr. Cartwright on the horse until we were really close." Naomi admitted, then added: "But I _did_ hear Mr. Cartwright use naughty words—_really loud,_ too!" Ben's amusement at how the children were telling their sides of the story evaporated at the realization that both of the youngsters were reminding Cassie that Ben had cursed. Adam was still highly amused at the whole thing, though Zach was wearing a completely neutral expression on his face.

"Thank you, Naomi. Mr. Cartwright, please tell me what happened?" Cassie asked evenly, turning her gray eyes to Ben once more. He stared, his previous amusement and even annoyance evaporating under the regard of her eyes.

"Pa—the lady asked you a question." Adam prompted, his hazel eyes dancing at his father's predicament. It wasn't often that Ben Cartwright was called on the carpet for anything, and Adam was enjoying the moment...a little _too_ much, in Ben's opinion. The Cartwright elder glanced sharply at his son and cleared his throat.

"I was here helping to deliver the horses to your station." Ben explained. "Just as we were done, these two...Gabriel and Naomi...came running right up to my horse, who very nearly trampled them. I was quite anxious that I may have hurt them." He nodded, willing to let it end there. Adam leaned over and reminded him in a stage whisper:

"Naughty words."

"_And _I may have used questionable language." Ben snapped, glowering at his son. Cassie's mouth twitched as she thanked Ben for his input.

"Zach...Adam...what happened here, please?" she asked.

"I saw the twins come running from the back of the house, Mama." Zach answered. "They came awful close to getting stomped because they didn't watch where they were going. Mr. Cartwright did some mighty fine riding to keep from hurting them." Adam nodded his agreement.

"Yes, Cassie," he said, "I'd have to agree with Zach's assessment...and admit that Pa did, indeed, use...naughty words."

"ADAM!" thundered Ben. Adam grinned at him, the scamp!

"Thank you—both of you." Cassie said, then turned back to the youngest people present, crossing her arms. "Gabriel...please tell me what you did wrong...and how you plan to rectify your mistakes." Now the little boy looked extremely anxious, screwing his face up as he thought about his response.

"I...I shouldn'ta grabbed Betsy from Naomi." he admitted. "But I didn't dunk her in the mud, though—honest! Not...not on purpose, no how. But...Betsy _did_ get muddy...an' I was wrong for running out front an' scaring Mr. Cartwright an' his horse." He scuffed a toe on the ground.

"You're not finished, young man." Cassie reminded him. Gabriel chewed his lip and then brightened.

"I'm gonna go practice my sums now instead of after dinner..."

"Practicing your sums is part of your normal chores, Gabriel, and not part of a punishment." Cassie reminded him. "Try again." The boy sighed, then spoke less enthusiastically.

"I'm gonna make up for taking Betsy by...by not playing with Pokey for a week. I'm gonna make up for getting Betsy muddy by cleaning her up an' fixin' her if I hurt her. I...I'm gonna make up for scarin' Mr. Cartwright by taking care of...of..." Here he looked at the horse and then to Ben.

"Buck...his name is Buck" Ben supplied.

"I'm gonna take care of Buck while Mr. Cartwright is here." Gabriel said. "That means waterin' him an' grooming him...with Mr. Cartwright's permission...?" The boy looked at Ben again. The elder nodded.

"Fair enough." Cassie nodded, too, then turned to Naomi. "Naomi, please tell me what you did wrong and how you plan to rectify your mistakes." The girl sighed.

"I was wrong for hittin' Gabey, I was wrong for chasin' him with a stick...an' I was wrong for scarin' Mr. Cartwright, too." she listed. "After Gabey makes sure Betsy is cleaned up, I gonna to put her away for a week to make up for hittin' him. I'm gonna to scrape out the fireplace instead of Gabey doin' it for chasin' him with a stick. An' I'm gonna help Gabey with Buck for scarin' Mr. Cartwright."

"That sounds fair, too." Cassie approved. "Now...apologize to each other..._and_ to Mr. Cartwright, because you made him very afraid that Buck might have hurt you two." Brother and sister faced each other and kissed cheeks, mumbling "sorry" as they did so. Then they turned to face Ben.

"Sorry, Mr. Cartwright." they chorused, sounding a lot more sincere with their elder.

"Apology accepted, children." Ben told them. The twins exchanged glances and then looked at their guardian.

"Mama...aren'tcha gonna paddle Mr. Cartwright for using the naughty words?" Gabriel asked. Adam laughed out loud at the sight of his father's face turning bright red. Cassie's eyes slid to Ben and then she looked at her nephew.

"Mr. Cartwright's punishment isn't for you to see, young man." she told him severely. "Paddling is done in private, as you well know. Now—get along and start keeping your promises!"

"Yes, ma'am!" both youngsters answered, taking Buck's reins from Ben and walking the horse around the outside of the corral, to where a simple stable was standing on the far side.

"I'll take Sport here, if you don't mind, Adam." Zach said suddenly. "That way I can tend him and keep an eye on the twins to make sure that Buck is groomed proper." Adam nodded, giving the lad Sport's reins with his thanks. Then he turned back to Cassie with a twinkle in his eye.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take Pa to the woodshed for that paddling, Cassie..?" he offered. Ben glowered at his oldest son even as the woman with the silver-and-gold hair broke into a peal of laughter.

"Thank you for the offer, Adam, but no." she said, then put her fists on her hips as she regarded Ben. "However, as...punishment...I'm afraid that you're both going have to come into the station and have biscuits and gravy."

"I guess we'll just have to suffer, if only to uphold an example of discipline to the children." Adam said magnanimously, waiting until Cassie had turned away and was walking back towards the station before adding to his father _sotto voce:_ "Unless you'd _rather_ have her paddle you, Pa." Ben, whose eyes had been appreciatively glued on the feminine sashay of hips in front of him, glared at his son once again. It still didn't work. Ben resolved to have a very firm discussion with his eldest boy about refraining from making such suggestive..._suggestions_ in front of other people.

Never mind that there was a tiny part of Ben that had sparked up in interest at those double entendres.

"Rebecca," Cassie called out as soon as she got inside the building, "Two lunches, please!"

"Yes, Mama!" the voice of a girl answered the station owner. Ben looked around as he stepped inside. The interior of the station was roomier than most; the room he now found himself standing in was about twenty feet square. To his right, one wall had a pot-bellied stove sticking out from the middle of it, probably used for heat in the colder months. Arranged around the stove were about four round tables, each with a quartet of chairs. On the wall opposite the stove was a counter, behind which were arranged various supply items such as canteens, blankets and the like. There was a door opposite the one that Ben and Adam had entered as well as another one—a swinging door—that was behind the counter as well.

The entire public space was utilitarian and yet had a rather homey feel to it, thanks to the cloths that covered the tables and the way that some of the supply items were actually grouped on the walls to look almost decorative.

"Please have a seat, gentlemen." Cassie indicated a table by sitting down at it herself, smiling as Adam hurriedly held the chair she was settling into. Ben felt annoyed for some odd reason, then felt annoyed that he had been annoyed in the first place—after all, he'd raised Adam to show courtesy and respect towards women.

Cassandra and Adam immediately began discussing the horses that had been delivered, with Adam assuring the woman that the animals were the ones best suited for hauling the stage coaches along on their cross-country trips. Ben listened and suddenly realized that Cassie must have simply bought the horses without seeing them for herself.

"Miss Callahan," Ben said, startled, "It surprises me that you would engage in such a transaction without even looking at what you're buying...not that we would ever try to pass off inferior stock, but it really isn't sound business practice to purchase such things sight unseen." Her frank gray eyes settled on him and she didn't respond for a moment. Ben shifted uncomfortably in the silence, as his words might have appeared to be censuring the woman unduly.

Before she could answer, a girl came to the table with platter bearing two plates, three cups and a pitcher, which the girl deftly transferred to the table, giving Ben and Adam the plates. Ben noted that the girl was perhaps sixteen years old or so, and rather pretty. She had blue eyes like Zach, Gabriel and Naomi, and her hair was the color of gold. She, too, had a beauty mark to one side of her mouth. Except for the color of her eyes, the teenage girl was very likely the mirror image of what Cassandra had looked like at that age.

"Thank you, Rebecca." Cassie told the girl. "Mr. Cartwright, this is Rebecca, the daughter of my heart. Rebecca, this is Adam's father, Mr. Cartwright."

"How do you do, Rebecca?" Ben greeted. The girl smiled at him, and Ben could tell that in another two or three years, Joe was likely going to have yet another local beauty to attempt to conquer, although Ben was hoping that—by that time—Joe would have found some girl to permanently settle down with.

"I'm fine, thank you, sir." Rebecca replied. "Please enjoy your meal." She gave them a bob of a curtsy and went back to the counter. Cassie waited until both men had begun to consume their meals before continuing the conversation that had been interrupted.

"Mr. Cartwright," the station owner said with a smile, "I only make transactions of this type with the Ponderosa—specifically with Adam. That's only because I know that I can trust him. I met Adam shortly after arriving in the territory about a year ago, and we became friends. I've depended on his opinion of horses to stock the pen for the stagecoaches ever since Callahan Station opened up."

"You're not a horsewoman, Miss Callahan?" Ben asked.

"Well...I know how to stay on one." she told him with a twinkle in her eye. "And I can drive a buckboard passably...but I confess to needing to have Zach or Becky saddle or hitch up the mounts properly. They are much better at that than I." The elder Cartwright gave her credit for her forthrightness...not everyone was suited to working with horses. Still, if the biscuits and gravy were an indication, Cassie could definitely cook.

"Not everyone can do everything." Ben agreed. "However, Miss Callahan, I must compliment you on your cooking—this is as fine as anything that Hop Sing can prepare!" The woman's eyebrows elevated.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Cartwright." she said sincerely. "Adam's told me all about Hop Sing and I've had the occasion to taste some of his cooking—I'm extremely flattered that you group my cooking with his." Cassie smiled at the man with the gray-and-white hair.

"Mama?" Becky appeared by the table and the older woman turned and gave the teenager her attention.

"Yes, Becky?"

"JJ wants to know if you can pay now rather than the end of the month?" the girl asked. Cassie got to her feet.

"Certainly...ask JJ to come to the counter." Cassandra turned to the Cartwrights. "Please excuse me for a moment." The station owner bustled over to the counter, where she was joined by a slender figure dressed in sturdy gray work pants, a blue flannel shirt and a gray hat with a black hat-band. From behind, the figure was that of a young man who stood half-a-head taller than Miss Callahan. However, Ben had been in the Carson Valley long enough to know that the person was JJ, and JJ was a girl.

JJ had been in the same school year as Hoss, and, indeed, the pair would often play together, exploring the woods, going fishing and even hunting frogs, which they always released after comparing them to see which child managed to catch the larger frog. Almost always, JJ won the contest. Ben smiled to himself as he recalled at one church picnic, when she and Hoss were about nine years old, the little girl had marched up to him and Adam at their family's picnic blanket and demanded that they judge who had the biggest bullfrog. This time the competition had expanded to include about six other boys besides Hoss. It was a close contest...for the boys. JJ's frog, however, was easily twice as big as any of the others'.

Ben proclaimed the girl the winner. Granger Farley, one of her competitors, and a very sore loser, made a very mean remark:

"Ya ain't no REAL boy, Just Jane MacGruder! Since ya catch frogs, ya ain't no REAL girl, neither! You're nobody anyone could want a'tall!"

The hurtful words had definitely hit their mark, for JJ's eyes welled up with tears, though she refused to let them fall. Instantly fifteen-year-old Adam had gone on bended knee and asked JJ to marry him. The little girl had stared at him for a moment.

"Why ya askin' me that?"

"Why, because you're the best dang frog-catcher in the Carson Valley!" he answered with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. JJ continued to stare and then laughed, her tears forgotten.

"Adam Cartwright, you're so silly!" she said with a grin. "I can't even answer that 'til I'm all growed up!" The tomboy with the brunette braids giggled, then turned to Hoss, announcing it was time to release their frogs back into the nearby pond.

"What are you smiling like that for, Pa?" Adam's voice broke into Ben's reverie.

"Just recalling some fond memories, son."

"Memories?" Adam prompted, intrigued. At that moment, however, they were again interrupted.

"Hey, Mr. Cartwright! Hey, Adam!" JJ greeted them in a cheerful tone. Ben nodded and returned the greeting, Adam, however, frowned.

"You really oughtn't be traipsing about in public wearing pants, Eve Jane MacGruder." he chided her, using her full birth name. "It doesn't speak well for your comportment." JJ rolled her chocolate-brown eyes heavenward.

"Oops, sorry, Parson!" she replied, clearly not at all apologetic, as the use of the nickname she'd christened him with indicated. JJ had taken to calling Adam "Parson" once he began to display his penchant for wearing all black. The slender young woman then leaned toward Ben. 

"It was nice seeing _you,_ anyhow, Mr. Cartwright...give my best to Hoss and Joe!" She turned to walk away, then paused. "Well...seeing as how my comportment has a bad image already..." JJ reached over, snatched up one of the remaining biscuits with gravy from Adam's plate and then made a dash for the door.

"Thanks for the biscuit, Parson!" JJ teased the man in black, who blustered and was halfway out of his seat. She bit into the biscuit and was out the door in a flash.

"Adam! Leave her be!" Ben told him, laughing. His eldest son sat back down, chagrined.

"But, Pa—she took it right off my plate! I don't even let Little Joe get away with that!"

"Let's face it, son—JJ isn't Little Joe." the father advised his son, adding: "After all, you did propose to her thanks to her skills at catching bullfrogs."

Adam frowned in response but otherwise followed his father's advice, having to work at recalling that silly episode from when he was a mere teenager. Eve Jane MacGruder was like an annoying little sister—a match in spirit and temperament to Little Joe...right down to the wardrobe. JJ dressed in men's clothing, something that Adam found annoyed him most of all, though he was hard-pressed to explain why. Good thing nobody ever asked him about it, or he may have been quite disturbed by the answer to the question.

"Here, Adam." the voice of Rebecca—Becky to her friends—sounded at his elbow. She exchanged his emptied plate for one that had another portion of the biscuits and gravy on it. "Don't mind JJ...she's been rather busy this morning with all the deliveries she's making."

"Thank you, Becky." the dark-haired Cartwright said politely. The door to the station opened up and in walked a trio of men. Ben and Adam glanced over and recognized the Dawsons...the father and his two sons, Josiah, Finn and Lug.

The Dawsons were trappers by trade, and not the most reputable, either. More than once, Hoss had complained of finding their traps set on the boundaries of the Ponderosa. It had taken a visit by Hoss and Adam to make it clear to the Dawsons that if any such traps were ever found on Ponderosa land ever again, they would be confiscated and destroyed. The last time the Cartwrights'd had to make good on that promise was about six or seven months ago, however...since then there had been no more traps found on the Ponderosa. Becky turned around and stepped over to the trappers.

"May I...help you...gentlemen..?" the girl asked, a slight tremble in her voice.

"_You _sure can, girl!" Lug, the oldest, biggest and—in Adam's opinion—the meanest of the family leaned forward, insolently looking the blond up and down with a sneer on his face. The was a smack to the back of his head—Josiah, his father.

"Settle down, boy!" the patriarch of the Dawson clan snapped. "We here t'pick up some pack lunches...so mind your manners."

"Yeah, Pa." Lug agreed sulkily, rubbing the back of his head.

"Becky." Cassie emerged from the door behind the counter. "Keep an eye on the gravy, please." The teenage girl nodded and escaped the salacious stare of Lug, disappearing into the kitchen in back. The older woman looked impassively at the trio of trappers.

"How may I help you, please?" she asked levelly, her gray eyes never wavering from the face of Josiah.

"We here fer...three of them pack lunches ya make." the eldest Dawson said. There was a tense silence for a moment, then Cassandra's silver-and-gold head gave a nod.

"I'll get them. Please wait here." The woman turned and left through the door that Becky had taken. Ben frowned because he noticed that all three of the trappers had definitely followed her progress—or, at least, the progress her backside made as she left. She returned in a few moments with three neatly tied packages.

"That'll be thirty cents, please." Cassie told them. Josiah harrumphed and grumbled, but produced the coins. Finn all but snatched the packages and followed his father as the eldest Dawson led his sons out. Lug, however, stopped long enough to direct a parting comment to Cassie:

"Tell Becky that I'm lookin' forward t'seeing her again..._real_ soon."

"Good day, Mr. Dawson." Cassandra replied with a cool incline of her head. The burly man slowly ambled out the door. The station manager's rigid posture didn't relax until the door opened up once again and Zach looked in.

"They're gone, Mama." he said, his blue eyes looking anxiously at her face. "Everyone okay?"

"Yes, Zach. Thank you." Cassie assured him. "You can go back to keeping an eye on your brother and sister."

"Yes, ma'am." The boy nodded and left, closing the door behind him. His aunt breathed in and then exhaled sharply, then returned to the Cartwrights at their table.

"Well...are you finished with your meal already?" she asked, the smile returning to her face looking a bit forced.

"We're done eating, Miss Callahan." Ben confirmed, then reached out to touch her hand. "Are you—" The Cartwright patriarch felt a mild but distinctive jolt when his fingertips brushed the back of her hand so he shifted his reassuring pat to above her wrist, where the long sleeves of her pink calico dress covered her skin. "—all right? Those men seemed to make you nervous." Cassandra's eyes glanced to one side before she answered.

"I don't like to make generalizations, Mr. Cartwright," she admitted, "But that Dawson family...I really don't trust them—especially Lug Dawson. Becky feels threatened by him...but they haven't ever done anything that I could go to the sheriff with." The woman smiled once more, a small twist of her lips, but it wasn't forced as the previous one had been. "So I take care to keep Becky away and I've told Zach to always check in on us if he isn't with us when the Dawsons stop by."

"Very sensible." Ben approved, then got to his feet, which prompted his son to follow his example. "I wish we could stay longer, but there's much to do on the Ponderosa, and Adam and I must get back...unless there's something you feel we can help you with..?" The blond woman's eyes connected directly with Ben's for a moment, then she shook her silver-and-gold head.

"No, Mr. Cartwright, but thank you kindly for the offer." Cassandra said, then began to stack the plates in order to clear the table.

"Thank you for the meal, Miss Callahan," Ben said, reaching into one of his pockets, "How much do we owe you?"

"Why, Mr. Cartwright!" chided the station manager, laughter dancing in her eyes. "Your meal was your punishment for using naughty words...there's nothing for you to pay." Cassie scooped up the dishes and started to move off but she stopped and favored Ben with a mischievous grin.

"So much more better than a paddling, don't you think..?" she added, then laughed. "Goodbye, Mr. Cartwright...Adam!"

"Goodbye, Cassie!" the younger Cartwright responded with a grin of his own as he caught sight of the telltale flush to his father's face.

Having introduced Ben to Cassandra may prove to be rather interesting after all.

CHAPTER TWO

Cassandra Callahan hustled the dishes that had been used by Adam and the very interesting Ben Cartwright over to the kitchen so that Becky could wash them.

Cassie had been in Nevada since spring of last year, but this was the first time since arriving that she met Adam's father face-to-face. Adam had been very easy to become acquainted with—she hailed from Connecticut, which was south of Boston, the city Adam told her he'd been born in. Having lived in New England for most of her life, Cassie had a very good grasp of many of the things that Adam had an interest in or at least an appreciation of, unlike most of the people who were native to Virginia City or the West in general. Adam had been easy to talk to, confide in—become friends with.

Cassie had needed a friend when she first arrived—she had been a spinster until the tragic death of her brother and sister-in-law, claimed as they'd been by the fire that had consumed their original homestead a half-mile south of Callahan Station. The children, still in understandable shock over the sudden loss, had not welcomed their aunt, and the people who lived in Virginia City were suspicious of her. Even after almost two years, many of them still were.

No matter—all it had taken was almost six months of love and patience and very hard work for Cassie to first gain the trust and then the love of the nieces and nephews who now were more than willing to call her "Mama". It took another eight months to build the compound that would become Callahan Station—the strong backs and generous labor of her neighbors contributed a lot, but Cassie had been very vocal in her gratitude to Adam Cartwright, for it had been his support and friendship that had convinced others in the area that Cassie was not a female out to snare herself a husband or even a string of male admirers. Cassie had been of a mind to build and run Callahan Station as a legacy for the orphaned children of whom she was now legal guardian.

The station had been in operation since December of last year, but it was already operating at a profit...another five or six months would most likely see the entire business itself clear the break-even point. After that, there would definitely be the means by which all of the children could be sent to schools—college for Zach, as well as for Becky if she so chose, or maybe a finishing school if the young lady preferred.

Yes, there was much for Cassandra to be grateful to Adam for...especially his latest accomplishment: finally introducing Ben Cartwright to her.

The woman with the silver-and-gold hair smiled to herself. Adam was a handsome young man—one that the ladies of Virginia City found much to gossip about, though it wasn't the kind of gossip he would need to concern himself with: women kept commenting on his looks, his manners and even the very way he leaned against the hitching rails in town. Many had openly asked Cassie if she was trying to claim Adam as her swain. The transplanted Yankee woman told anyone who asked the truth: no, Cassie was not interested in Adam romantically. Adam was merely a friend.

Ben Cartwright, on the other hand, was more of a force of nature. He exuded confidence, power and strength, yet Cassandra had yet to hear of Ben abusing any of the privileges that being the owner of the Ponderosa granted him. If anything, just about anyone who spoke of the man had nothing but good things to say about him. After meeting the distinguished-looking gentleman, Cassie was inclined to agree.

"You're smiling, Mama." Becky's voice disturbed the older female's reverie. Cassie blinked ingenuous gray eyes at the daughter of her heart.

"Smiling?" she echoed. Becky laughed, taking the dirty plates and cups from Cassandra's hands and plunging them into the sink to wash.

"Don't be coy...you've got a kitty-got-the-cream smile on your face." the younger blond prompted. "That means you're sweet on a man." Cassie gaped.

"Rebecca Isolde Callahan!" the aunt protested. "I am _not _sweet on a man!" Becky grinned, her impish glee sparkling in her sapphire eyes.

"You taught me that line from Shakespeare that said something about protesting too much!" the teenager replied. "I know it's _not_ Mr. Foster...and it's never been Adam...so it just _has_ to be his father." Becky's expression was canny and sharp...and it was only because Cassie realized that the girl was, indeed, correct that saved Becky from a tongue-lashing.

"I thought so." Becky went on to say with a nod, as her aunt had a telltale flush to her cheeks. The younger female leaned towards the older one and added: "For whatever it's worth—I _really_ like Mr. Cartwright, too."

"Thank you for your...support." Cassie replied. "I should hope you won't be gossiping about this with JJ, now, will you?"

"Not me, Mama." Becky answered with a solemn shake of her head. "_I_ never gossip." Then she shrugged, that imp dancing in her eyes once more. "Can't guarantee the same for JJ, though..."

JJ MACGRUDER WAS one-third of the way back to her family's farm, which lay between Callahan Station and Virginia City, just south of the road from parts East, when she decided to look at the money she had earned through her clever use of the wooded areas that surrounded the MacGruder property. Her Pa grew vegetables that he supplied the local residents with, but it had been JJ's idea to augment that by inculcating the stands of trees that grew all around the farmland with mushroom spores. Locally-grown mushrooms brought a premium price, and it was JJ's responsibility to make sure that the mushrooms got harvested and delivered to customers like Callahan Station and the International House in Virginia City.

"Eight...nine...ten." the young woman with the mop of short sable curls counted out the coins. "And a dollar for me!" JJ's face lit up in a smile—she was saving her commission from the sale and delivery of the mushrooms to save up for extras that Sirocco needed. Sirocco was the horse she was riding on now—he was part quarter horse and...what was that other part? _Ar-rah-bean?_ JJ didn't recall what that drifter had called it, but it made for some very interesting lines in the spindly gray dapple colt that she'd ended up buying from him four years ago. It had taken every penny of her meager savings, but something inside JJ told her that it would be worth it.

This year, it would be worth it, because this was the year JJ was going to enter the steeplechase in the annual fall harvest festival. Everyone and his brother would be betting on Little Joe Cartwright and Cochise to win (as usual!)—but the way Sirocco was shaping up, JJ knew that she and her horse would be the ones in the winner's circle this year. The prize was two hundred dollars! With that kind of money, JJ could finally get herself off to a lady's school—maybe even get her teaching certificate! The two-hundred-dollar prize would do that all at once, instead of just one dollar at a time.

_One dollar..?_

JJ looked down at the money in her hand, pulling Sirocco to a stop and counting the coins again. Eight, nine, ten..._eleven._ Oh, no—there was a whole dollar more than there was supposed to be here! The mushrooms were ten dollars per month, with nine going to her Pa for the family and one dollar for JJ...but Cassie had given her eleven...probably by accident! Oh, why hadn't she noticed it before?

The young woman thought for a moment—it was possible that the extra dollar was supposed to be a...a...what was that word again..?

_Gratuity._ Right.

It was possible that the extra dollar was supposed to be a gratuity...but...JJ knew that Callahan Station had to run on a profit much the same as the MacGruder farm had to. She also knew from bitter experience that there were times when one dollar could make all the difference between profit and loss.

If Pa knew about it, he'd just take the extra dollar and put it in his pocket without no never mind...but JJ wasn't like her Pa. She _had_ to go make sure that Cassie hadn't accidentally overpaid the MacGruders for their mushrooms.

"C'mon, Sirocco," the brunette said with a gusty sigh as she reined the gray dapple stallion around, "If we hurry up, we can actually see the stagecoach come in—Becky says that the new schoolteacher is supposed to be coming to Virginia City on it!"

Horse and rider cantered east, heading back to the station.

HORSE AND RIDER cantered west, heading for the way station that was scheduled to be the westbound stagecoach's next stop. The rider was a tall man, muscular, with cold brown eyes that assessed the layout of Callahan Station from atop a nearby rise.

Yes...all he would have to do was enter the station under the guise of needing to rest up his horse and get something to eat, and then he'd be in position to see if his quarry had, indeed, gotten off the stage from Kansas City. If the fugitive went into the station, then it would be child's play to get the drop on the man—the rider's partners would be outside, waiting with rifles to make sure that this bounty didn't get away from them.

John Vincent Preston was a bunco artist with an eight-hundred-dollar price tag on his head, and he had been using his charm and questionable talent to evade capture by Wayne Harkness and his partners for the better part of fourteen months, but today...today the Harkness gang would be getting their prey no matter who tried to help Preston.

Harkness hitched his horse up to the rail, turning around and casting his eyes over the layout of the station once again. He saw a tall, rangy blond boy tending to a group of horses in the corral. His brown eyes also noted that his three cohorts were in their places behind the rocks and trees that surrounded this place...Callahan Station, according to the sign. He gave a nearly-imperceptible nod of his head and went inside the station proper.

He was greeted by the woman who introduced herself as the station manager—Cassie Callahan by name, a silver-and-gold-haired spinster with a strangely youthful face by looks. She bid him to sit and had her good-looking teenage daughter bring Harkness the meal at hand—biscuits and gravy. Damn good stuff after weeks of trail chow. In one corner, a pair of kids...maybe five or six years old...were tending to some broken toy they were trying to fix.

None of the people he saw were any kind of threat to his income, he thought with satisfaction. All he had to do was wait for Preston to show up, give the signal and help shoot down the quarry.

Indeed, yes—_this_ time, Harkness wasn't going to lose out on an eight-hundred dollar bounty...even if he had to shoot through some stupid station manager and her family to get it!

CASSIE WENT OVER to where Naomi was assisting Gabriel in fixing up her muddied doll—little Betsy, apparently, had suffered a rip at the waist of her dress besides getting dirty, and Gabe's self-prescribed penance was calling for him to take up needle and thread to repair the damage.

"But, Mamaaaaa..." Gabriel complained loudly, "...I shouldn't be doing _this!!!_ Sewing is _women's_ work!"

"Sewing isn't 'women's work', Gabriel." Cassandra chastised the child mildly. "It's men's work as well—sailors often have to sew the canvases that make up a ship's sails...and soldiers have to repair their own clothing and tents when they're on the march. It's a useful skill to have, and you'll never know when you have need of it." Gabriel frowned down at Betsy.

"Betcha Mr. Adam doesn't have to sew!" the little boy grumbled.

"No, he doesn't." Cassie agreed amiably. "Mr. Adam didn't tear Betsy's dress." Naomi giggled but quickly hushed it and then continued to help her brother with sewing the doll's torn clothing. Just then, Becky emerged from the kitchen with a tray that held the biscuits and gravy with some coffee. She brought it to the grizzled man who had only just walked into the station.

"Here you are, sir," Becky said, smiling as she set the tray down on the table where the stranger was sitting, "The coffee's nice and fresh." The grizzled customer nodded and grunted something that may have been "thanks" as she off-loaded the dish with the biscuits and gravy as well as the large cup of coffee, then made sure he had the dinnerware to eat with. Becky picked up the tray and returned to the kitchen with it. The diner began to tuck into the food with gusto. The door to the outside opened and Zach loped inside.

"Horses are all set for when the stage gets here, Mama." the young man informed Cassie. "They'll do just fine—Adam got us some real good ones."

"I'm glad to hear it." the matriarch of the Callahan clan said with a smile and a nod. "The stage should arrive between now and maybe one o'clock. Go wash and have something to eat, Zach—you haven't had a thing since breakfast."

"Yes, ma'am." Zach agreed, turning around to go into the kitchen. As he did so, he caught sight of the customer eating his biscuits and gravy...and his sapphire eyes widened in recognition.

"Wow!" he gasped, stepping towards the table. "You're Wayne Harkness, aren't you?" The man at the table froze, stiffening in shock.

"You know this man, Zach?" Cassie said curiously.

"Hey, Becky! Get out here!" the eldest Callahan child called out and then turned to explain excitedly as his sister emerged once more from the kitchen. "I surely do know him, Mama...or, rather, I know about him! This is Wayne Harkness—he's the most famous bounty hunter this side of the Pecos River! He's in all those dime novels I get at the store in Virginia City...I'd know him anywhere from his picture on the covers!" Zach eagerly turned back to face the customer once more. "I betcha you're here to capture some real desperado, aren'tcha, Mr. Harkness?" The bounty hunter closed his eyes, cursing his agreement with that stupid dime novelist three years ago—this foolish kid was going to blow over a year's work.

"If that's true, Zach," Cassie said with a frown, "Then I'm afraid I can't allow Mr. Harkness to stay in the station—" She turned to the man at the table. "—I won't have my family endangered by your presence inside the station, sir. Please lea—" Harkness leaped to his feet, pulling out his gun and yelling at the door:

"Trent! Carter! Get in here—change of plans!" Then he leveled his gun at the Callahans. "Sorry, ma'am...I've been after Preston for over a year, and I can't let you interfere! Now—everyone over by the wall." The family stared at him in shock.

"MOVE!" he bellowed, causing Cassandra to jump at the volume and violence in his voice. She beckoned to Zach and Becky and then moved to where the twins were sitting. The older children, seeing that there was no choice, followed the bounty hunter's directions. The door to the outside opened up and into the station came two more men. One of them was a light-skinned negro and the other one looked to be a redheaded boy no older than Zach.

"Wha' happened?" the older of the two asked.

"Stupid kid made me." Harkness answered. "Cover 'em, Carter—we can't afford to have any of 'em tip off Preston that we're here, or we'll lose the bounty." Carter brought a double-barreled shotgun to bear on the family lined up against the wall and looked...well, he looked quite willing to use it.

"Trent," Harkness went on to address the youngest bounty hunter, "I'm gonna need for you to pretend t'be the kid that's usually out there by the corral. Preston don't know ya since I only just picked ya up. You're gonna have to—" The door to the outside burst open again.

"Miss Cassie! I think you gave me too..." JJ stepped inside, taking two steps before stopping as her voice trailed off in shock, "...much...money..?" Her dark brown eyes widened as she took in the unmistakable hostage scene. Then she suddenly bolted back out the door. There was the sound of a shot being fired, which made Becky scream in sudden fright.

Harkness backhanded the boy in his employ.

"Idiot!" he hissed. "You only shoot when the quarry is here! Now go git him an' drag him back in here!" Trent—who had fired his gun at the fleeing JJ—ran out the door. He didn't see anyone, but there was a gray dappled horse standing loose right there, so the young man snagged the reins, turning to face the open doorway of the station.

"I don't see nobody, Mr. Harkness!" he yelled. "But he won't get far, cuz I got his horse!" Just then there was a shrill sort of whistle, the sound of which made the dappled horse rear up violently, flaying its hooves. The mount broke free of Trent's grasp and ran south towards the sound.

"After him!" Harkness roared. "Don't let him get away to warn the stage!" Trent ran for his own horse, seeing the boy who'd burst into the station emerge from the trees and leap onto the dapple's back. The pair galloped off, with young Trent hot on their heels. The senior bounty hunter of the team turned back to face the Callahans, who were still being held in place by the threat of Carter's shotgun trained on them.

"Don't none of you get any ideas." Harkness said. "All we want is our quarry, really...but I won't let nothin' or nobody get in my way...even if I have to kill you."

Gabriel and Naomi whimpered, hugging themselves closely to Cassie, who could only put her arms around them and hold them as comfortingly as possible...and pray that JJ could escape and get them help.

"Zach...Zach, I'm scared." Becky whispered, her trembling hands reaching out and clasping her older brother's tightly. Zach pressed his lips together, still angry that he hadn't been able to use JJ's sudden appearance to jump Carter. The boy named Trent had panicked and fired off his gun at her when she bolted, but Carter was obviously more seasoned and hadn't even looked JJ's way after the door initially opened—he kept his attention on the Callahans, and Zach had seen that he would only get himself shot if he attempted to jump the rifleman.

It still rankled, though, that he couldn't make a move.

"I know, Becky...it's gonna be okay, though."

"Do you...do you think JJ will make it?"

"JJ's on Sirocco." Zach pointed out. "JJ will lose that other fella, guaranteed." Zach had seen JJ every once in a while—the woman had a damn fast horse. However, if he gaged the sound of her whistle correctly, then Trent was likely chasing her away from the stagecoach route...JJ wouldn't be heading for Virginia City nor for the stage that was going to be arriving soon—she'd be heading southwards, towards the Ponderosa.

Zach's prayers joined those of his guardian's in hoping that JJ could get help in time.

JJ KICKED SIROCCO into a gallop as soon as her butt smacked into the saddle...and the wonderful equine was all out running like the wind he was named for.

Simon Trent never had a chance to catch her.

However, by the time she was sure that she'd lost the young man who'd fired at her, JJ knew that she was too far away from the road that the stage was taking—she would neither be able to intercept the stage to warn them away from Callahan Station nor reach Virginia City in time to tell the sheriff about the family being held at gunpoint. No, at this point in time, the only hope for the Callahans was for JJ to get to the Ponderosa—the ranch was less than two miles away now.

So JJ kept Sirocco running south, ignoring the burning pain in her side.

BEN AND ADAM rode into the front yard, with Father still chastising Son about making suggestive suggestions in front of other people. The patriarch scowled, as his words did not seem to have the chastising sort of effect that he'd been hoping for. They dismounted and hitched their horses to the rail.

"But, Pa," Adam was insisting with an innocent expression, "I didn't suggest anything at all—I merely repeated the, um, prescribed punishment for your offense." The front door of the house opened so that Hoss and Joe came outside.

"There wouldn't have been any punishment mentioned if all you...you..._children_...had refrained from reminding that woman about...my unfortunate lapse!" Ben's middle son looked concerned for his father.

"What's this about you collapsing, Pa?" he asked anxiously. Adam leaned against the hitching rail, a twinkle in his hazel eyes.

"No, Hoss—I didn't _'collapse'_...I had **a** lapse..." Ben began to explain, but then didn't want to admit about how he had lapsed. It was too late, however, even as Hoss' furrowed brow smoothed back over, Joe caught sight of how Adam was clearly enjoying himself and immediately deduced that something had occurred that he just had to get all the juicy details about.

"What kind of lapse, Pa?" Joe prodded. Ben's eyebrows drew together—oh, boy, Pa was _annoyed!_ Joe just _had_ to find out all about this, even if he had to pay Adam for the information by offering to do his chores for a week.

"Pa almost got himself paddled...by Cassie Callahan." Adam informed everyone immediately.

"ADAM!" Ben thundered. Joe began howling at the expression on his father's face. Hoss latched onto a word in Adam's sentence.

"Now hold on a dadburned minute..." the largest Cartwright said testily, "...you said _'almost',_ Older Brother—that means Pa _didn't_ get paddled, right?"

"That's right." Adam's face didn't lose his smirk.

"But...why would Miss Cassie want to paddle Pa?" Hoss asked innocently. Joe was helpless with laughter because Ben's face was all too revealing even if he wasn't verbally forthcoming.

"That—" the snow-maned man growled, "—is nobody's business! The matter has been settled to everyone's satisfaction now!"

"_Everyone's,_ Pa..?" Adam asked drolly, innuendo practically dripping from every syllable. Joe was close to having that collapse that Ben had worried Hoss about earlier in the conversation. At that moment however, the sound of a horse galloping towards the house caught everyone's attention. A dappled gray stallion raced to a stop near the men. Adam grimaced as he recognized the rider.

"What do you want, Eve Jane MacGruder?" Adam genuinely tried to keep petulance from coloring his question.

"JJ...are you all right..?" Hoss asked, noticing that his friend's normally apple-cheeked face was looking rather pale.

"Three gunmen are at Callahan Station!" JJ panted out, gripping her reins tightly. "I saw one of them...heard one of the others call his name...he's Wayne Harkness—that guy on the covers of those dime novels you get all the time, Joe!"

"Wayne Harkness, The World's Best Bounty Hunter?" Joe clarified, his earlier merriment vanishing. JJ nodded.

"What happened exactly?" Adam demanded, brushing aside his pique from what had happened at the station that morning.

"I'd left the station after Cassie paid me." JJ told the men, still breathing hard. "I rode part of the way home but I...turned back because of something I had to see Cassie about. When I went into the station, there were three strange men there, all of them with their guns out and pointed at the Callahans. One of them fired at me when I high-tailed it outta there...chased me away from the station. I lost him and came here because it's closest." She leaned down to emphasize her next words.

"We gotta help 'em...we..._gotta_..." The slender young woman tumbled from her horse, but Hoss caught her before she hit the ground, catching her around her waist. His left hand was now wet and sticky.

"She's been shot, Pa!" the middle Cartwright son declared, showing the others his bloody hand. Ben took a quick look as Hoss shifted JJ so that she was cradled high up in his arms.

"Grazed by the bullet, looks like." the patriarch announced. "Hoss, put her inside on the settee and let Hop Sing know JJ needs tending. We'll all be riding for Callahan Station."

"Why would a famous bounty hunter be holding guns on the Callahans?" Joe asked as Hoss quickly did as he was told. Adam harrumphed, snagging the gray horse's reins and hitching it to the railing.

"My guess is that he's waiting for someone on the stage that's due in, but he doesn't want the Callahans in his way." the eldest Cartwright son answered. Ben frowned.

"It's pretty callous bounty hunter that would threaten a woman and children to get a bounty." Ben pointed out. Just then Hoss emerged from the house. Everyone mounted up as the big, tall man told them that Hop Sing was busy helping the injured young woman inside.

Then the Cartwrights rode hard and fast for Callahan Station.

**CHAPTER THREE**

Mercy Harris grit her teeth against the painful jarring of the stagecoach as the vehicle rattled along on the piece of topography that this part of the country laughingly referred to as a "road". Being from Maryland, she knew exactly what a "road" was supposed to be—and the rut-riddled passageway that had plagued the trip since leaving Kansas City had not, by any stretch of the imagination, been anything like a "road".

As bumpy as the travel had been, however, Mercy hadn't complained out loud—and neither had the man with her on this part of the voyage. She eyed the male on the other side of the stagecoach: sandy-haired with piercing eyes dark enough to appear black, he was dressed in fine clothing. Mercy guessed that he was either independently wealthy or an extremely successful shady character...a gambler, card sharp or maybe even a bunco artist of some kind. His hands showed not a single callous, so it was quite obvious that he'd never had to perform menial labor of any kind.

He was amiable enough company, this Mr. Preston, as he had introduced himself earlier. He had a fine smile and smooth manner about him—one that exuded charm and confidence.

Mercy had immediately distrusted him—the last man who had exuded such charm and confidence had succeeded in plunging her into six years of hell, and Mercy was in no hurry to go back for more. No, Mercy Harris would be going forward from that...forward to Virginia City, Nevada, where she was going to teach school and forget her past...where she would become just plain Miss Mercy Harris, schoolmarm to a frontier town.

The stagecoach bounced pointedly once more and swerved, trundling to a stop. A moment or so later, Jake—the weatherbeaten veteran driver of the stage line—opened the carriage door and aided Mercy down from the vehicle.

"This is Callahan Station," the bearded man told the raven-maned lady as she took an experimental step or two forward, "It's one of the best stops on the line. Miss Cassie makes a fine Mulligan stew, and her chil'lun are the nicest lot you could hope t'meet..." Mr. Preston descended as Jake squinted about with a thoughtful frown. "...though this is kinda strange...young Zach is usually Johnny-on-the-spot whenever I drive in..." Mercy's own emerald eyes cast about, seeing naught but the half a dozen horses in the corral—not a person was about. Then three things happened in rapid, sickening succession:

A shot rang out, which made Jake grunt and tumble forward to lie face down on the ground, groaning.

The horses of the stagecoach reared and bolted, yanking the carriage away towards the west—towards Virginia City, most likely, if Mercy recalled the local geography correctly. However, the third thing—the most shocking development—was the hand that suddenly seized Mercy by the back of her skirt's waist and hauled her backwards so that she slammed into Mr. Preston. This was accompanied by the sudden chill of cold metal pressed to her right temple—a gun, being held by her fellow coachmate.

"Give it up, Preston!" yelled a voice from off to the right of the couple standing in the relative open area in front of the way station. Mercy surmised that it was the voice of the assassin who'd gunned down the stagecoach driver. Preston's left arm snaked around her waist and the man spun them to face the direction the voice had come from.

"You'll have to shoot us down before you can get me, bounty hunter!" the man said in a dire threat. Mercy was in shock—the well-dressed, gentlemanly-appearing Mr. Preston was apparently a cowardly criminal on the run...and using her as a living shield. Mercy caught sight of a man with a rifle aiming directly at them, and her eyes widened as she suddenly realized that the bounty hunter was more than happy to comply with Mr. Preston's terms, so long as the hunter got his intended prey...

THE CARTWRIGHT QUARTET were just about within sight of Callahan Station and slowing to a stop when they heard the sharp report of a shot.

"Adam, you and Joe circle left..." Ben barked, "...Hoss and I will go right." His boys acknowledged the orders even as everyone kicked their mounts back into their redirected gallops.

Hoss was the first to behold a scene that shocked him to his core: there was a rifleman behind a tree aiming his shotgun at a mixed couple. The middle Cartwright son could see that the finely-dressed gentleman was actually holding the woman in the blue dress in front of him—so that the rifleman was likely to hit the lady should he fire.

"Give it up, Preston!" the man with the shotgun yelled.

"You'll have to shoot us down before you can get me, bounty hunter!" the gentleman holding the lady in front of him responded. Hoss was horrified to see that the rifleman was starting to squeeze the trigger—so, having no choice, the gentle giant squeezed his own.

The rifleman went down like a sack of wet levee sand.

The gentleman spun to face Hoss, still holding the lady in front of him and pointing a gun first at the woman's head and then at Hoss.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"My name is Hoss Cartwright...now...let the lady go..."

"I won't be taken in!"

Hoss turned his worried blue eyes towards the pale face of the lady in question. She had green eyes that were even darker than Joe's, and—for some odd reason—Hoss was agitated about the fact that she was wearing a blue dress, convinced that it boded ill for the young jet-haired woman.

Ben, meanwhile, had continued to circle around the rear of the station house, rounding the very same corner that Gabriel and Naomi had come careening around earlier that same day. He saw the man holding the woman before him like a living shield and frowned fiercely. That the bounty hunters appeared willing to go through anyone unfortunate enough to get between them and their quarry was bad enough, but it was sadly apparent that the man they were after was of the ilk who wasn't above taking hostages himself. The Cartwright patriarch gripped his gun and stealthily stepped forward.

The front door to the station house opened and out stepped a very young man—someone who looked to be about Zach's age. Ben thought he heard someone from inside whisper an order, telling the lad "don't be stupid, boy!" The young man aimed his pistol at the man holding the woman.

"Mr. Preston—you're coming with us!" the bounty hunter shouted, cocking his gun in preparation of firing it.

Mercy blinked, flinching as the sound of the bullet firing blasted out. She blinked again—funny, she didn't feel any pain from the shot. Then she saw the boy that had come out of the building slump to the ground. Before she could even begin to process what had happened, Mr. Preston pushed her around to face the person responsible for shooting the adolescent bounty hunter.

"I'm sure Miss Harris is getting tired of her current position," Mr. Preston told the snowy-haired man at the corner of the building, "But I will say again—you're not taking me in unless you're willing to see her get hurt!" Then the man gave a choked cry of agony as the hand holding the gun he was pointing at the older gentleman was suddenly engulfed in the crushing grip of yet another newcomer.

Neither Mercy nor Preston had seen Hoss move quickly and quietly towards the fugitive, the big man grabbing Preston's gun hand and squeezing it unmercifully. Then Hoss yanked Preston away from his hostage, delivering a right hook that, naturally, knocked Prestion out cold.

"Hoss!" Ben called. "Be careful, we still don't know how the Callahans are..!" Father and son turned anxious eyes towards the station house, hoping that Adam and Joe were taking care of matters from the rear.

EVERYONE INSIDE THE station house heard the shot that laid Jake low. Naomi gave a little scream that was mostly muffled in Cassie's skirts, as the little girl had her face pressed tightly to them. Cassandra was nearly beside herself; she held the twins closely to her body, desperate to insure that they remained safe and unharmed, while Becky and Zach were standing right next to them as well.

Zach, once again, made an abortive move towards the man called Carter, but the older man was a seasoned pro at the bounty-hunting tactics Harkness practiced—Carter took a half-step back and kept his eyes and gun on the Callahans.

Closer to the front door, Harkness and his newest protoge, a young man named Simon Trent, were listening through the closed portal as Preston shouted to the fourth man in their gang, daring him to fire at Preston while he was holding some woman hostage.

"He don't know us, do he?" Harkness snickered to Trent. "You'd think after fourteen months, he'd know better." Cassandra noted that young Trent didn't look comfortable when the senior bounty hunter pointed that out, but another shot outside caught everyone's attention.

"Who are you?" The question came from Preston. Harkness' eyebrows knit—the shot they'd heard should have come from Thompkins, the man Harkness had left outside. Another voice—one that none of the bounty hunters immediately recognized spoke next.

"My name is Hoss Cartwright...now...let the lady go..."

Cassie felt her heart leap in her chest—yes! Thank God, it looked like JJ had managed to get help!

"I won't be taken in!" Preston's voice grew strident. Trent frowned and then threw open the front door, stomping outside in spite of a hiss from Harkness not to be stupid.

"Mr. Preston—you're coming with us!" Trent announced. There was another shot—one that got the attention of both Harkness and Carter. Zach jumped at the man with the shotgun, grabbing it. Harkness swung around and aimed his gun at the struggling pair...

"I wouldn't, mister!" The voice of Adam Cartwright sounded from just inside the door. He stood there, a formidable figure in black, pointing a gun at Harkness.

"Drop the guns—now!" another voice added—Little Joe Cartwright. Cassie and the children with her stared: everyone in the room had been distracted by the tableau outside, so neither of the remaining bounty hunters noticed the back door silently yawn open and admit Joe as well as Adam, who was now overseeing Zach removing the shotgun from Carter's lax grip.

"Joe!" the station manager recognized the youngest Cartwright brother as he paused long enough to make sure that Harkness had holstered his gun before turning towards the Callahans in the corner. Adam strode outside.

"Hello, Miss Cassie." he greeted her with his usual charm. "Are you all unhurt?" His green eyes roved over the pale faces of Gabriel, Naomi and, of course, Becky, whom he was standing closest to. Everyone nodded, then Becky threw her arms around Joe's neck. He automatically embraced her, both because it's what he naturally tended to do whenever he was with a pretty girl for too long, but also because it was all-too-obvious that the blonde teenager was shuddering in reaction to the family's close call with violence. Joe's initial flush of pleasure at feeling Rebecca Callahan's body pressed tightly against him was literally drowned in the flood of tears that burst from her.

"I was _so_ scared!" Becky sobbed. "I thought we were going to _die!"_ Joe rubbed her back.

"Aw, Becky—you know I'd _never_ let anything happen to you." he assured her, glancing at Cassie to see if Becky's guardian was taking exception to his touching her niece-cum-daughter this way. The older woman was too busy reassuring the twins that everything was fine now to pay him heed.

"For what it's worth, Mrs. Callahan," Harkness said from beside the front door, "My men and I weren't trying to hurt your family...we just needed to make sure that Preston didn't get another chance to escape."

"I don't agree." Cassie turned her face to the contradicting speaker, who was now standing just inside the door: Ben Cartwright. She felt a sense of joy bloom when she registered his presence.

"It looked to me like at least two of your men were willing to shoot an innocent woman in order to get to the man you were hunting for a bounty." Ben pointed out grimly as he walked towards where Cassie now knelt rocking her two youngest in an effort to soothe them.

"She should have taken care to not become involved with a fugitive." Harkness dismissed the other man's point. Hoss moved into the station house, his arms around the still-shaken Mercy Harris.

"Mr. Preston failed to introduce himself with the fact that he was one." the formerly-threatened woman told the bounty hunter in a frosty tone. She allowed Hoss to assist her to a nearby chair and sit down. Ben murmured comfort to the children, himself going down on one knee.

"Then I'm sorry for the...misunderstanding." Harkness said stiffly. "However, my men and I have been tracking Preston for over a year. He's a very dangerous and crafty fellow, and I am not sorry we have finally caught him." Just then, Adam appeared in the front doorway.

"Well, you've racked up quite a body count, Mr. Harkness." he said acerbically. "The man that Hoss had to shoot...didn't make it." Hoss frowned. "Not to mention the flesh wound that JJ ended up with." Adam's hazel eyes met Ben's own brown ones and the patriarch's head inclined in silent understanding. "Pa...I think Jake can be patched up a bit...but I'm going to get Doc Martin. The boy...he needs the doc." Then Adam was gone.

The way station was a flurry of activity. Becky pulled herself together and removed herself from Joe's arms, helping to bandage the wounded stagecoach driver. Cassie had to take the twins and spend some time comforting them before being able to leave them in their rooms to come and look after the more seriously injured Simon Trent. She went to Ben after Hoss and Joe helped her make the young bounty-hunter-in-training comfortable.

"I could tell from Adam that the boy is grave." Ben said bluntly when the station manager tried a few times to speak but couldn't. Cassie sighed, bending her silver-and-gold head.

"Mr. Cartwright—"

"Ben." he found himself insisting in a gentle voice. Cassie lifted her gray eyes to his face.

"Ben..." she repeated, "...he's saying...he can't feel his legs. He hasn't moved them at all, either...not that I can see. I...I think he's going to be paralyzed." Now Ben bent his head—he didn't like knowing that he caused another person to become paralyzed. He felt Cassie's hands grip his shoulders.

"You didn't have a choice, Ben." the woman reminded him. "I heard the way they spoke to each other before you got here...I could see it in their faces—especially the one in charge. He wanted to get the man with the bounty on him any way they could. That boy shot at JJ...I'm certain he would have fired at Miss Harris in order to get to Mr. Preston. I'm sure you saved her life." Ben lifted his head once more, finding himself lost in the depths of silver-gray where warmth and understanding seemed swamp his awareness of the world around him. His own hands engulfed her shoulders and an instinct that had not emerged within him in a very long time prompted him to move—

"Pa?" Hoss' question checked Ben's impulse and he released Cassandra to turn to his concerned middle son.

"Yes, Hoss?"

"I'm gonna hitch up the horses to the stagecoach and take Miss Mercy to town." he told his father. "She's the new schoolmarm, an' they'll be mighty worried about her if she don't arrive there soon."

"All right, Hoss." Ben nodded. The biggest Cartwright brother left the station along with the young woman who'd had this terrible introduction to her new life in the West. Ben turned back to Cassie, but she was now with her older son and daughter, sharing reassuring hugs. Joe sidled up beside Ben.

"Pa...you all right?" he asked the Cartwright patriarch. "I heard Miss Cassie, and she's right, you know—that Mr. Harkness...he seems to have a rule about getting their assigned bounty any way they can. Becky tells me that Simon Trent was the one who shot JJ."

"Indeed." Ben confirmed. "Miss Callahan's sure that young Trent would have shot at Preston in spite of the man using Miss Harris as a shield. Such a...horrible tragedy." Joe reached out and gave his father a one-armed hug around Ben's shoulders, which the older man leaned gratefully into.

Ben Cartwright silently thanked God that he and his sons managed to come by in time to keep the number of innocents harmed from getting any higher than it already was. Then he and Joe went to keep an eye on the bounty hunters until Adam returned with the sheriff.

CHAPTER FOUR

Hoss Cartwright pulled the horses to a halt outside the stage depot in Virginia City, then jumped down from the top of the coach.

"Miss Harris?" he asked anxiously of the lady inside the vehicle as he opened the door. "We're here, ma'am...let me help you out." The jet-tressed young woman moved to the open doorway and, without even really thinking about it, Hoss reached out and, wrapping his hands around her waist, lifted Mercy Harris up and swung her around to gently place her on her feet on the ground. Then he froze, suddenly aware that he, big ol' Hoss Cartwright, had his hands on one of the prettiest little ladies he'd ever seen.

She felt really good under those hands.

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright." Mercy said, staring up at the large man who—for all that he was inches over six feet in height—managed to resemble an overeager teenager just realizing that he had committed a social _faux pas _but unable to figure out how to fix it. She found herself smiling up at him.

"You may release me now, you know." Mercy reminded him, as Hoss still hadn't removed his hands. The big man flinched and pulled his hands away, but the school teacher remained smiling. The middle Cartwright brother found himself smiling back.

"I'm mighty glad I met you, Miss Harris." he said sincerely. "I only wish it wasn't a-cuz of..." Hoss paused, searching for the right way to put the horrible situation delicately.

"Because of Mr. Preston, that miscreant?" the schoolmarm prompted. Hoss blinked bewildered blue eyes—he didn't understand that last word at all.

"Miscreant...reprobate...blackguard...charlatan...malefactor..?" Mercy repeated several synonyms, her mouth puckering slightly as she searched her brain for something Hoss might recognize. "Um..._low-down dirty louse!" _ Hoss brightened.

"Ah...right." he said with a nod and a smile. The sandy-haired man had actually made the connection between _miscreant _and _blackguard,_ but he had been entirely too absorbed in the way Mercy's lips had shaped themselves while she was concentrating.

The raven-maned woman looked up at Hoss, who was now bending down a bit towards her. If he bent his head just a few more inches, then—

"Miss Harris, I presume?"

The couple was startled apart by the peremptory voice of Mr. Ralph Foster, one of the newly-elected members of the recently-created city council for Virginia City. Hoss had to fight to keep a frown from replacing that smile that had been on his face; Mr. Foster wasn't the most sociable of men—it was common knowledge that he was on the city council only because Ben Cartwright had turned down the nomination for it. Ben refused to put credence in rumors like that, but it was clear that Mr. Foster had no love for the patriarch of the Ponderosa.

And now the stodgy old puritan was peering at Hoss as though the large man had been on the verge of assaulting Mercy Harris in the middle of the street in full view of everyone.

"You would be Mr. Foster, I presume?" Mercy asked, blinking.

"Yes, I am, Miss Harris." the older man said primly. "You're late."

"The stagecoach was delayed, Mr. Foster." she told him.

"So I see." the councilman replied. "But we are all here now. Get your things and follow me to the house the town has provided for you." The reedy man turned and began to move off.

"Oh, please wait a moment, Mr. Foster." Mercy said, glancing at the stagecoach. "My baggage is still on the coach." Foster waited with a great deal of impatience which manifested itself as toe-tapping, throat-clearing and numerous pointed glances to the pocket watch that he would remove and make a show of opening and closing. Hoss worked as quickly as he could to first get Mercy's baggage off the coach and then tote the trunk and two large suitcases up the street and over to the tiny dwelling that had been set aside for the new teacher. It was hard enough for someone of his size and stamina to carry them all that way—Hoss sure wasn't about to let Mercy try to do it herself, especially since Foster didn't so much as offer to carry the bag that the teacher had with her.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Cartwright!" the dark-haired lady said gratefully as Hoss set down her baggage in the middle of the front parlor. He flushed slightly in the warmth of her regard.

"Please, ma'am...there are four of us Cartwrights, so's I'd be pleased if you could call me Hoss." Her eyebrows elevated.

"_Hoss?"_ she echoed, then smiled. "My, that certainly sounds ethnic."

"Ma'am..?" Hoss didn't recognize that word...but got secretly fascinated once more because there went that little pucker of concentration of hers again.

"Cultural...indigenous...traditional..?" Mercy offered. "I mean—it sounds like a family name."

"Ah...well...you could say that it is, Miss Harris—my Ma named me 'Eric', and Adam reminded everyone that my uncle was wantin' me to be called 'Hoss'...and Pa said we'd see which one o' them stuck." He grinned down at her again.

"And apparently 'Hoss' was it." Mercy finished for him, herself smiling when he nodded. "Well...if I'm to call you 'Hoss', then my name is Mercy." Hoss opened his mouth to ask if she wouldn't mind if he came calling on her later in the week.

"Miss Harris!" Foster interrupted in a rather whiny voice. "I have matters I must tend to! Please dismiss your servant and let us get you settled!" Mercy frowned, then took Hoss' hand and clasped it in both of hers.

"Sorry," she apologized, "But I do hope we see each other again soon. Take care...Hoss."

"Thank you, I will..." he managed to reply, adding belatedly: "...Mercy." Then the middle Cartwright brother found himself outside the tiny house, on its equally tiny porch...grinning from ear to ear.

Yes, sir—he surely was going to make it a point to come see Miss Mercy Harris as soon as he could. Then Hoss went to see if anyone had come to town yet to tell the sheriff what had happened at Callahan Station.

ALTHOUGH HE AND Adam had left at different times, Hoss was able to meet with his brother and accompany the sheriff, a couple of deputies and Doc Martin back to Callahan Station. Once there, Paul Martin checked the wounded, immediately working on the most seriously injured one—young Simon Trent. As he did so, the deputies secured the body of the bounty hunter who had been killed as well as taking John Vincent Preston into official custody.

Meanwhile, Roy Coffee, the firm but fair sheriff of Virginia City, was getting statements from everyone that had been involved in the incident. He had gotten Hoss and Adam's versions during the ride from town, so he spoke to Harkness and Carter, then Cassie, Zach and Becky, and, finally, Ben and Joe. He even made sure to get what he could from Jake, who was conscious...though he had to wait for the fugitive to wake up from being knocked out by Hoss' punch before Roy could get Preston's statement.

"All right, I have what I need to make an arrest." the sheriff said. Adam nodded.

"How long do you think Harkness and Carter will be in jail, sheriff?" he asked, his hazel eyes narrowing because the pair had done little more than gloat about the different ways to spend their eight-hundred-dollar bounty during the time that the lawman had been speaking to everyone else. Roy grimaced.

"They won't be, Adam." he told the eldest Cartwright son frankly. "As hard as it may be for you to believe—I'm only arresting John Preston...neither Harkness nor Carter have done anything I can arrest them for." All of the Cartwrights erupted into voluble protests simultaneously:

"But...they took the Callahans hostage!" Ben cried, aghast.

"But...they shot Eve!" Adam added his own voice to the cacophony.

"But...they shot Jake!" Joe pointed out incredulously.

"But...they almost shot Mercy!" Hoss was also aggrieved. Adam and Joe both looked at their biggest brother.

"Mercy?" they both asked. The middle Cartwright son aimed a slightly-irritated frown at them.

"Miss Harris, the new school teacher." he clarified, a touch of pink coloring his face. The youngest and oldest brothers exchanged glances, but they both realized that now wasn't the time to interrogate Hoss about how he was now on a first-name basis with the newest female arrival to Virginia City.

"You're all correct." Roy told the men of the Ponderosa. "The bounty hunters were responsible for all that...however...according to the law, they were completely within their rights to do whatever they deemed necessary in pursuit of a legal fugitive."

"_WHAT__???"_ The year was now 1863, but Sheriff Coffee was being subjected to twenty-first century surround-sound as all four Cartwrights made the same horrified, outraged exclamation at the same time.

"These men held the Callahans prisoner within their own station!" Ben pointed out.

"We had to make sure none of them warned Preston we were there." Harkness said in answer.

"I suppose_ that's _the reason you shot Eve Jane MacGruder?" Adam scoffed, crossing his arms and narrowing his hazel eyes. The chief bounty hunter looked confused.

"There was that young fella that walked in on us," Harkness replied slowly, "Trent panicked and shot instead tellin' the boy to stay put."

"How about when Jake was cut down?" Joe said hotly. Harkness shrugged.

"Thompkins has enough experience to only shoot when our quarry is in sight...but his aim isn't always the best."

"That dadburned sidewinder was about to shoot Miss Mercy if'n I hadn'ta stopped him!" Hoss growled the accusation. Harkness, to his credit, backed up a step from the angry man.

"He was shooting at the quarry—at Preston. It was Thompkins' job." he countered, then turned to Roy. "Listen, sheriff, we both know that everything me and my crew did wasn't breaking no laws—but this here big galoot gunned down my partner—and that old fogey pumped a bullet into Trent so's the boy ain't never gonna walk again! I asked the sawbones and he told me so himself...Simon's paralyzed. You gonna arrest _them, _aren'tcha???" The men of the Ponderosa were scowling, except for Ben, who was looking and feeling rather heartsick at the news about the youngest bounty hunter.

"Don't push it, Harkness!" Roy Coffee snarled. "Your actions might be supported by the letter of the law, but any lawman knows that you've been just plain careless about how you get your fugitives. And, _no_—I'm not arresting any of the Cartwrights, because they didn't know that you or your men weren't outlaws yourselves, since none of you identified yourselves to them once you knew they were here." The senior bounty hunter frowned, then smiled.

"All right—I know when to let bygones be bygones." Harkness said sweetly. "Now that you got Preston in official custody, we'll just be taking our eight hundred dollars and going, then...I wanna stop over to Mr. and Mrs. Trent's an' give 'em fifty dollars. Simon didn't even finish out one month with me, but seein' as how he's a cripple for life now, I'm gonna be giving his folks two month's pay...to help ease the burden an' all." Now it was Roy who smiled.

"Well, now, thank you so much for reminding me about the one silver lining to this big, dark, stinky cloud of suffering you've left here." the man said, showing teeth in a fashion that was not at all friendly. "As sheriff of Virginia City, I do hereby decree that the one-thousand-dollar reward—"

"_One thousand?"_

"Yeah, Harkness—the amount got added to as of last week." the lawman confirmed.

"Hot damn!" Harkness was pleased.

"The one-thousand-dollar reward will be paid immediately..." Roy said with a nod, "...to Hoss Cartwright."

"_WHAT__???" _ Now the audio was a mere stereo effect, as the incredulous question was shouted by Harkness and Carter.

"But...but...we been tracking Preston for over fourteen months!" Harkness blustered.

"Maybe." the sheriff conceded. "However, while you and your gang of hair-triggers were busy keeping women an' children prisoner...as well as shooting down innocent people...Hoss is the one who—and I quote: 'came up on Preston and smacked him a good one'...unquote."

"That...that's what I told you!" Harkness said, flabbergasted.

"Well, by your own admission, then, it was Hoss that actually captured Preston—not you or any of your crew!" Roy said, then leaned towards the two remaining bounty hunters. "Now...get on your horses and get to town—you got Thompkins' burial to arrange and pay for, as well as giving the Trents that fifty bucks. And don't even _think _of skipping town without paying out, or your name will be mud in Nevada...as well as Colorado, Arizona and California, too—cuz I got friends there." The sheriff watched with narrowed eyes as Harkness and Carter mounted their horses and took Thompkins' horse—with the man's body now strapped firmly to it—in tow on their way to Virginia City.

"I never liked Harkness." Roy admitted in a low voice, wiping his suddenly-rather-old face with one hand. He turned to Ben. "But everything I've said, for good or bad, is the letter of the law. I can't arrest Harkness for doing his job, as much of a mash he's made of it...but I also can't arrest you since you technically didn't know that they really were official bounty hunters."

"Thanks, Roy." Ben said, grimacing. "I still feel terrible about young Trent."

"Roy..?" Hoss asked suddenly. "Could you pay that reward to Mr. and Mrs. Trent rather than me? I don't need it...but...if the boy_ is _paralyzed...they'll be needin' that money to help 'em...and I...I don't_ want _that reward." Ben patted his middle son on the back, sensing that Hoss was starting to get upset with the matter.

"That sounds like a fine idea, son." the Cartwright patriarch said sagely.

"I can do that if it's your wish, Hoss." Roy agreed. The large man nodded and then excused himself, going to where Chubb stood by the hitching rail and losing himself in the mundane actions of checking over his mount. Ben looked over and sighed. Hoss hated to see anyone—any living creature—hurt, and his being forced to stop that Thompkins man was a burden that would lie heavy on the gentle man's soul for quite some time. Ben could only hope that this "Mercy" woman might help to divert most of Hoss' guilty feelings concerning that. The Good Lord only knew that the Cartwright father was feeling bad enough knowing that he'd taken away the use of Simon Trent's legs. Too bad there wasn't any way for Ben to forget his role in that.

"Ben?" Doc Martin's voice interrupted his reverie. The master of the Ponderosa turned dark, serious eyes towards the physician.

"Paul...is what Harkness told me true?" Ben asked gravely. "Is Simon Trent...is he paralyzed?"

"I'm afraid so, Ben." his friend admitted. "I removed the bullet and stitched everything up...odd how very little physical damage the shot left...but it was the right amount of damage in the right part of his body. I'm afraid that he's paralyzed for life, Ben...there's nothing I can do to fix it."

"I know you did your best, Paul." the other man said with a heavy sigh. "It's just that I, apparently, did worse."

"It wasn't your fault, Ben." the doctor reminded him sharply, not liking the ivory-maned man's tone. "Cassie told me about how those bounty hunters were—you didn't have a choice...you know that boy was going to fire on Miss Harris in an effort to get to the man behind her."

"I—I know that." Ben admitted. "But...I still don't like how all this was resolved. Simply because it was inevitable doesn't make it any easier to stomach."

"No." Paul agreed. "But at least you can take comfort in the fact that you saved that woman's life—and maybe even the lives of the Callahans, too. Just because those bounty hunters _said _they weren't trying to harm them doesn't mean that they wouldn't have." The other man nodded but his mind was still heavy with the weight of having been responsible for altering a young man's life in such a tragic way.

Ben looked at his sons as they stood speaking to each other—specifically, Adam and Joe were speaking to Hoss, who was also having a hard time with what had happened. They were correctly pointing out that Hoss had been a position where he'd been able to see for himself that Thompkins was about to pull the trigger—a position that Ben couldn't claim when it came to himself versus Simon Trent. Trent had been turned away from Ben...one could almost say Ben shot him in the back, although not quite. There may have been a chance that the boy wouldn't have fired his gun—there was a possibility that Trent would not have given in to the rash of youth...

Ben was startled out of his brooding by the unexpected warmth that was suddenly nestled between his shoulder blades...a hand that slid slowly but surely up to grasp the top of his right shoulder as its owner stepped into his line of sight to stand close by him when he turned towards his right.

"Cassandra..?" his bass rumbled deep in his chest—a chest that was suddenly a tad bit restricted so that it was a little harder to breathe now.

"You're overthinking this, Ben." the woman told him, her gray eyes looking earnestly up at him. "You can keep going over and over what you did..._now_, _after_the fact...but the ultimate truth is that you made your decision in _that _split-second _then_. You also should remember your motivation—you did it to save a young woman's life...and _not _to deliberately harm the boy."

"It doesn't change the fact that Simon Trent won't walk again." Ben replied.

"No, it doesn't." she agreed. "But it also doesn't change the fact that you were acting for the greater good, either. Judge ye not by results, but by the heart behind them." Cassandra's last sentence was obviously a quote of somebody's words of enormous wisdom, given what she'd said, but Ben didn't recognize the source.

"I've never heard truer words spoken." the patriarch of the Cartwright clan said. "Whom are your quoting?"

"The Right Reverend Alloysius Callahan." she told him with an impish smile. "My father." Ben almost didn't register her answer—when Cassie smiled, there was a dimple next to that beauty mark of hers, and the effect on him was rather devastating...almost as devastating as the feel of her hand on his shoulder.

Then Ben realized that the burden of Simon Trent's fate—while definitely not completely gone—had become considerably lighter, thanks to this extraordinary woman.

"Thank you, Ben," she told him now, "I'm so grateful that you and your family rode out to help us. I do hope that JJ is all right?"

"JJ will need to see Doc Martin to be certain, but her wound was from that shot creasing her right side." Ben assured Cassie. "She's back at the Ponderosa with Hop Sing tending her." He stirred, loathe to leave, but the day had been a long one for them already and there was work to do back on the ranch.

"We'll be on our way, now." he announced, prompting his three sons to mount their horses. Cassandra's hand dropped from his shoulder, making it feel oddly cold now that it was gone.

"Have a safe trip." the station manager said softly, then raised her voice so that all of the Cartwright men could hear her. "If you all aren't busy, I'd be pleased if you could come to the station for supper. According to the schedules, we won't be expecting any stages on Friday, so you may come then. It would give my entire family a chance to thank all of you properly for your help today." All three sons looked to their father for the official word on their status. Ben grinned.

"Thank you very much, Cassandra," he accepted the invitation, "We'd be most pleased to be here!"

"I'll have everything ready for about six o'clock, then." she told him, watching as Ben climbed atop Buck. "And I promise that I'll keep a very strict eye on the twins—we wouldn't want you saying anything...untoward...should they have the ill grace to frighten you again." The man on the horse lanced her with a look that did nothing to rebuke her, either, in spite of one of his eyebrows being lifted in what should have been an intimidating manner.

Ben resolved to work on that, since he recalled Adam being strangely immune to it earlier in the day.

The boys said their goodbyes and all four of the Cartwrights rode southwards towards their home.

CHAPTER FIVE

"What do you mean, _she's gone?"_ Adam demanded of Hop Sing. The Cartwright quartet had just come in from settling in their horses after arriving back at the Ponderosa, only to find that their servant was the only one in the house.

"Hop Sing fix Missy, then Missy get up and go, Mr. Adam." the Chinese man explained, his tone a mix of apology and annoyance, since it obviously hadn't been his idea to let Eve go. "Say she got family to help. Hop Sing not army—no can stop Missy...like try to stop Number One Son—Hop Sing not do _that,_ too!" The protests segued into Cantonese, but the inference for Adam was strong that Hop Sing also didn't like that the young woman had departed.

"That's all right, Hop Sing." Ben told the servant. "JJ only suffered a flesh wound, really, so she should be fine—although I _do _hope she pays a visit to the doctor just to make sure about it. It's just that Adam is naturally concerned about anyone who's hurt." He walked the Chinese man back to the kitchen, leaving his three sons in the great room by the fireplace, the eldest one still frowning.

"If you're worried about JJ, Adam," Hoss offered, "I can always just take a ride out to MacGruder's farm an' ask after her." Joe gave the middle brother a canny glance.

"Why, I'm sure you would, Hoss." he agreed with a twinkle in his emerald eyes. "And, since JJ lives only a mile or two away, why don't you just drop by town and see if Miss Mercy needs any more help getting settled?" Hoss grew rather pink in the face. Now that Adam had something else to divert him from his irritation at JJ, the eldest brother immediately jumped on it.

"Indeed—it _did _sound to me as though you managed to get rather chummy with the town's newest school teacher, Hoss." he pointed out. "Is there a story behind that?"

"No." Hoss denied even as the color in his cheeks deepened.

"She must have been really grateful that you saved her life, Hoss." Joe teased. "Maybe grateful enough to give you a reward of her own?"

"Mercy did nothing of the sort, Little Joe!" his older brother admonished him with a frown, clearly not liking the implication Joe was making about the lady.

"I'm sure that Miss Harris displayed impeccable behavior, Hoss." Adam said quickly.

"She sure did." the big man confirmed, recalling the presence of Mr. Foster. If the councilman hadn't been there, Hoss just might have been able to follow through on his impulse to get a kiss from the pretty, jet-tressed woman. Then he mentally shook himself—that was something that Joe definitely would have done. Most likely Mercy would have slapped Hoss for his temerity had they not been interrupted. Hoss reluctantly conceded he might owe Mr. Foster a favor for having avoided a scandalous scene.

"But you _wanted _her to reward you, didn't you, Hoss?" Joe prompted, merriment making his emerald eyes dance. The big man's face flamed full red now. It was the sharp voice of their forgotten father that cut through the fraternal exchange.

"Joseph, that's enough!" Ben rebuked. "This little exchange brings to mind the fact that my sons seem to think nothing of making suggestive innuendos..." The man's dark brown eyes were taking both Joe and Adam to task. Adam recalled the rapier wit that he'd demonstrated when Ben had that encounter with the Callahan children this morning. Apparently Ben was now of a mind to let his eldest know his extreme dissatisfaction with having been the butt of that joke.

"You know," Adam said quickly, reaching for his hat and heading for the door, "I'm so very concerned about how Eve Jane is, that I'm going to go see for myself. Right now. I'll be back." He left before his father could do anything else. Joe wisely remembered chores that had yet to be done. Hoss exited as well, though it seemed to Ben that his middle son had something on his mind when he went to do so. Ah, well...Hoss would doubtless speak to his father about it when he was ready.

The patriarch of Clan Cartwright was now alone in the house, free to ponder exactly why it was that he was objecting so very vehemently to the innuendos that Adam had been making earlier...and he wasn't sure that he was ready to face that just yet. However, as much as his attraction to Cassandra Callahan disturbed him, Ben wasn't ready to forgo the dinner date with her this Friday.

No, wait—it was an _eating engagement_...for his entire family...with her own family. It was _not—_by any stretch of the imagination—any type of courtship.

Still...he was thinking that he ought to wear his blue suit with the silver brocade vest for the occasion...

ADAM FUMED FOR the entire last half of the ride to the MacGruder farm, in spite of the fact that the excuse for checking up on Eve Jane had saved him from his father's ire.

Eve Jane MacGruder had always been a handful ever since the Cartwrights had moved back into Nevada in order to claim and work the Ponderosa. She had, for the most part, been a constant companion to Hoss during the times that the middle Cartwright was attending the small frontier school that had been available to the children of the area all those years ago. Adam tended to view the spirited brunette as a female version of Little Joe, the only difference being that she was nowhere near as inclined to chase after members of the opposite sex as the youngest Cartwright was...a fact that Adam was certain her father was grateful for, as he'd had two other daughters to worry about. Of the original eight members of the MacGruder family, only the parents and three children remained, with Eve Jane the only daughter in residence. The other three children—the eldest son, Eve's older sister and then Eve's younger sister—had all married and moved to their own homesteads around the area.

Adam rode up to the house itself, nodding a greeting to Jimmy MacGruder, who was repairing some chinking in the front of the log structure. Jimmy and Tom were Eve's younger brothers, with Jimmy being about fifteen this year.

"Hey, Adam." the gangly youth stopped his plastering long enough to acknowledge the Cartwright rider with a nod and a passably polite greeting. "What brings ya over here?"

"Hey, Jimmy." the older male replied. "I'm here to check on Eve Jane. She _is _here, isn't she?"

"She's in the barn...with Pa." Jimmy answered. "You'd best call out if'n you're gonna see her. Pa didn't like that she came home late." Adam stiffened in the saddle, but nodded to the boy.

"Thank you, Jimmy...I'll do just that." he replied, turning Sport's head and walking the horse to where the tired barn slumped into the hillock it was on, the faded red paint peeling all over the slightly-warped sides of the structure.

The barn, much like the man who owned it, was looking older than its years, although the building was aged through Frank MacGruder's inability (or perhaps refusal) to give it basic maintenance, while Frank himself was worn down by years of doggedly working his farm in the very same manner as had his parents and their parents before them. According to Frank, "MacGruders been farmers since before there was an America." Frank's parents had a farm in Iowa, his grandparents had a farm in upstate New York, and the non-American MacGruders had farmed in Ireland, if Frank was to be believed.

The MacGruders' Irish heritage made no difference to the eldest Cartwright son, but he _did _take exception to the implication that Frank was chastising Eve Jane for something that was clearly not her fault. Besides...a twenty-five-year-old woman was a little old for a father to discipline.

"...just to keep from bein' here when I got Herman come callin' fer ya!" the rough voice of Frank MacGruder carried easily to Adam's ears even though he was still yards away from the barnyard. He couldn't quite hear Eve Jane's response, as her voice wasn't as angry or loud, but he heard her father's reaction to whatever the little hoyden had said:

"I have had just about enough of yer sass, girl...I'm yer Pa, an' I'm tellin' ya it's time ya got yerself hitched! I ain't ending up with no old maid on my hands just because yer still pinin' for that book learnin' nonsense!"

By now, however, Adam was close enough to the barn that he could no longer be construed as "accidentally" being within earshot of the argument.

"Eve Jane MacGruder!" the man in black called out, pulling up on Sport's reins. After a second or two, the barn door swung open and out came Frank MacGruder's daughter, pale but otherwise looking alright.

"Parson!" the brunette said with forced brightness. "What a _nice _surprise! What brings you out here?"

"We came back to the Ponderosa and found you gone." Adam explained as Frank emerged from the barn, a thoughtful scowl on his heavyset features. "Naturally we wanted to make sure you were feeling better...Hop Sing was especially worried." The look on the face of the female most of the population of Virginia City called JJ was a portrait of someone having been caught in a lie.

"Ya were at the Ponderosa, girl?" Frank demanded. "Ya told me that ya were late coming back from collecting what's due us...an' now I hear that ya was lollygaggin' around the Cartwright spread..?"

"Mr. MacGruder." Adam's sharp voice cut through the man's tirade. "Eve Jane was not 'lollygagging'...she had ridden to the Ponderosa to help the people of Callahan Station, who were being held at gunpoint. I'm here to make sure that she is alright after having been shot while doing so." The compression in Adam's lips were the only outward indication that he didn't like the way the farmer was castigating his daughter for something that was clearly not her fault. JJ's expression—unseen by Frank, who was behind her—however, did not indicate gratitude, but the look of somebody who knew they were in for even more censure.

"So...she stuck her nose where it didn't belong and got herself shot fer her trouble." Frank put his own perspective on the events Adam had just related. JJ's brown eyes closed briefly as she swallowed but the eldest Cartwright brother couldn't identify the emotion that flitted across her face before her lids snapped open once more, her expression carefully blank.

"Thank ya fer lettin' me know, Cartwright." Frank told Adam with a nod. "Glad ta know the truth about the trouble JJ is gettin' herself inta."

"Mr. MacGruder," the younger man attempted to point out the selflessness of the female's actions, "Eve Jane wasn't the one who—"

"_I _wasn't the one who asked _you _to come by, Adam Cartwright!" JJ snapped, interrupting. "So I'll thank you to turn your horse around and ride on back to the Ponderosa. I'm fine and I thank Hop Sing for his concern, but you don't need to bother yourself about me again..._Parson." _ Her tone and voice were bitterly reproachful, and Adam had the distinct feeling that, no matter how he couched the truth, Frank MacGruder would simply twist his words into whatever Frank wanted. Adam touched the brim of his hat as he nodded to JJ.

"As you wish, Eve Jane." he capitulated, then gave a single, curt nod to her father. "Good day, Mr. MacGruder." Adam could feel the eyes of both MacGruders bore into his back and knew that the owner of at least one set would have liked nothing better than for their gaze to be made of bullets...

...problem was, at this point in time, Adam couldn't be sure which MacGruder was the one with that particular wish, Frank or Eve Jane.

LATER THAT NIGHT, the Cartwrights had an excellent dinner prepared by Hop Sing...he called it Cantonese Beef. Adam and Hoss were especially partial to this particular dish, as it heaped together bite-sized pieces of Ponderosa beef with mushrooms and peppers, as well as the more unusual vegetables like snow peas, bean sprouts, water chestnuts and sliced Chinese cabbage in a sauce that both brothers found was oddly spicy and yet sweet at the same time. However the Chinese cook managed to make it, there was never anything left over from this dish...and tonight's meal had been no exception to that rule.

As it was the middle of the week, the family was staying home playing whist—a game Adam had learned during his years back East and taught to his family after he returned home—when Joe suddenly asked Adam how JJ had fared after leaving the Ponderosa.

"She said she was fine and thanked Hop Sing for his concern." Adam reported succinctly. At least, for most people, this would have been succinct. For Little Joe Cartwright, who was always looking for the slightest sign of anything that might possibly turn into something amusing, this was an invitation to probe deeper.

"Yeah, Hop Sing sure was concerned," Joe agreed as he ended his turn, "But you were even more concerned—especially after Sheriff Coffee told us that he wasn't arresting any of those bounty hunters. I thought you were going to punch somebody...especially when you bleated on about how JJ got hurt by them." Hoss, whose turn it was, considered his cards.

"Didn't sound to me like Adam was bleatin' on about nothin'." the middle son opined, squinting at his hand.

"Of course not to _you, _Hoss," Joe went on, _"You _were mooning over Miss Mercy."

"I was not." Hoss insisted, but there was a flare of pink that belied his assertion.

"You were calling her by her Christian name when we spoke to Roy at the station." Adam pointed out blithely.

"She gave me permission." his younger brother defended himself.

"Already? Hoss, you sly fox!" Joe said with a delighted grin on his face. Hoss lanced the youngest Cartwright with a sharp glare of exasperation.

"Nothin' 'sly' about it, Li'l Joe." Hoss said with dignity. "I just asked her to call me Hoss and she said to call her Mercy." Joe opened his mouth, obviously seeking another of Hoss' buttons to push, but Ben put his foot down.

"Joseph, stop teasing your brother." Ben told him firmly. "It's his turn and you're distracting him."

"Yes, sir." Joe capitulated immediately, but that impish gleam still resided deep within his emerald eyes. The rest of the card game passed without any more instigations from the youngest Cartwright. However, as the men started up the stairs to their bedrooms, Adam felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Hoss looking at him with some concern on his face.

"I didn't wanna say nothin' in front of Joe cuz he's in one of his moods to be funny tonight." he explained to his older brother. "But...is there somethin' you ain't sayin' about JJ?" Adam blinked in surprise—he certainly hadn't realized that Hoss had picked up on his concern over the independent young lady. The gap in Hoss' teeth peeked out as the big man flashed a grin.

"I saw you gave Sport an extra-thorough groomin' tonight." Hoss explained. "Not that you're ever sloppy with 'im regular, but whenever you're extra-special thorough it's only because you rode 'im hard—or you got somethin' on your mind." Adam's lips twitched and he reminded himself to be wary of playing poker with Hoss in the future, as his younger brother was getting better at discerning tells.

"Hoss, can you tell me what Eve Jane was like when you two went to school together?" Adam asked. Now it was Hoss' turn to be perplexed by the seeming-unrelated question, but he grew thoughtful.

"She was the smartest one in school while I went there." the sandy-haired man said emphatically. "In fact, if it weren't for JJ, I don't think I would have passed the graduatin' test...you know...that very last one at the end of my schoolin'."

"But, Hoss...I helped you with that for the entire week before the examination." Adam reminded him, a little irritated that his brother was crediting the daughter of a farmer with something like that important. "It was one of the last things I made sure to do before going to college."

"I know, Adam...an' what you did for me helped a lot..." Hoss assured him, but he looked a bit embarrassed, "...but...well...I guess I can tell you now—I was still a mite confused about how to do up them fractions, even after all the help you give me."

"I thought you were being melodramatic about not wanting to go to school that day." the older man frowned slightly as his memory revealed that young Hoss had been nearly sick with dread about attending the last test for the school year—what their father had told would be his last year in school unless Hoss felt he wanted to continue. At the time Adam had been slightly aggravated because he knew he'd helped drill Hoss in those pesky fractions. Now, years later, Adam was a bit appalled at the realization that his younger brother had been apprehensive about taking a test on a subject that he still didn't completely understand.

"Hoss...I'm sorry...I thought that you were ready for it..."

"Aw, shucks, Adam...you don't have to apologize." Hoss said. "I was fine with all the rest of that examination—but I still didn't know them fractions...an' I knew they was gonna be most of the test."

"But, Hoss..." Adam pointed out, "...you ran home with an excellent grade on that test."

"Yeah, I sure did." Hoss agreed. "That's cuz I met up with JJ on the way to school an' she got me to tell her why I had a face longer'n a sermon on a sunny Sunday mornin'. She thought about it a bit an' told me to wait in the schoolyard...then—don't ask me how she did this without anythin' happenin' to her—but JJ loosed a skunk in the schoolhouse."

"What?"

"Yup. A _skunk_...an' she didn't herself sprayed." Hoss' sapphire eyes twinkled with recalled mirth. "It took Mr. Sanders an hour to get that critter out of there—he wasn't letting us children go home without taking our exams, not at the end of the school year. JJ used the time to go over them fractions with me...she knew her fractions good, Adam. She found a way for me to understand them, an' I passed the test."

Adam didn't know whether to be outraged on behalf of that poor teacher...or impressed with the successful tactics displayed by the MacGruder girl. He opted for begrudging respect—obviously Eve Jane MacGruder had pulled the stunt only to make sure that Hoss got some extra study time, as opposed to being wantonly disrespectful to the teacher. She not only got Hoss the time he needed, but she, herself, had done what she could to get him to feel secure about the fractions that were on the test.

"I always thought that JJ woulda gone to one of 'em higher schools in Reno or Sacramento..." Hoss added, "...you know...college...like you...only closer." The taller man sighed and shrugged. "Guess her pa didn't have the money for that, though...then her ma got sick...well...you know the rest."

Adam mulled over what he—and most of the area's long-time residents—knew: Eve Jane MacGruder was commonly known as "JJ." The nickname came about when the five-year-old girl had been pushed to a breaking point by the teasing of most of her classmates pairing herself and then-eleven-year-old Adam as per the "Adam and Eve" in the Bible. She insisted on being addressed by her middle name, "Jane". Adam, however, always called her "Eve Jane"...never admitting to anyone he did so because she looked so cute when she got angry, stamping her little foot and yelling for all to hear: "Just _'Jane'!_ Just _Jane__'!!!"_ Hoss literally called her "Just Jane", and this eventually got shortened to JJ.

Adam still called her Eve Jane...and he now suffered from her calling him "Parson."

JJ left school a year after Hoss did, but not willingly. She'd done so because her mother had contracted polio, and—although she survived the disease—Mrs. MacGruder could no longer walk, and JJ was the oldest female left at home, as her older sister had recently gotten married.

The MacGruders were a farming family who barely got by, although, in the last seven or eight years, their income had been boosted by adding mushrooms to the variety of crops they sold. That, coupled with the fact that Frank didn't have to support as many children as he used to, meant that the family should have had money enough to aid JJ in going to college, assuming she wanted to go.

Adam's ride out to the MacGruder farm told him something that he wasn't sure he liked—Frank MacGruder apparently didn't want JJ going off to college...to the point where he was attempting to get her to marry "Herman". The only Herman that Adam knew of was Herman Voorhees, a dull but strong individual who worked as a farm hand. The thought of a woman with Eve Jane's vivacity being tied to somebody like Herman made Adam cringe.

"I reckon Mr. MacGruder is prob'ly doin' what he can to keep JJ on the farm." Hoss continued. "I hear tell that he made a deal with Herman Voorhees to cut him in on part ownership if'n he marries JJ." Adam's hazel eyes blazed for a moment.

"This...is common knowledge?" the eldest Cartwright brother asked incredulously. Hoss shook his head.

"Naw...Herman was braggin' about it last week at the Bucket of Blood." the beefy man stretched as he spoke, stifling a yawn. "Sayin' how Mr. MacGruder promised Herman would get a share of the farm if'n he married JJ...and lived there with her until Mr. MacGruder died." Hoss frowned. "He weren't real respectful when he talked about JJ, Adam...I can't repeat what he said after that."

"That was why you came home early..?" Adam asked, his memory once again tripping over the mental picture of a rather annoyed Hoss returning from Virginia City before 10pm Saturday night.

"Yeah...Herman sort of...accidentally landed in the trough outside the bar." Hoss admitted with a rather sly grin that showed not one whit of remorse. "Did what I tell you help at all, Adam?"

"It...helped me put things into perspective, yes, Hoss. Thank you."

"Any time, older brother. Good night."

"Good night, Hoss."

Although both of them went to their respective bedrooms relatively quickly after their conversation, it was some time before Adam was able to go to sleep.

CHAPTER SIX

BEN COULD NOT remember when he last had such an enjoyable time at the house of another family.

The Callahan children were all polite and very well behaved. Even though Ben hadn't met them until a few days earlier, Adam—of course—was well-known to the family. Ben also discovered that Joe and Hoss were acquainted with the Callahans, too; Joe and Zach were good friends and Hoss asked after "Petey", who was apparently a tiny rabbit that Gabriel had found and was looking after, as the creature had only one eye. The twins grabbed Hoss' hands and tugged him out to the hutch they'd built for Petey just to show the man how the little rabbit was faring.

Rebecca and Cassandra easily entertained Adam and Ben, engaging them in stimulating conversation before they all gathered for the fine meal that had been prepared for them at the large dining table that seemed to have been created by pushing together two of the regular tables in the public room of the station. Ben, having originated from New England himself, instantly recognized the repast when the ladies bore the serving platters from the kitchen to the dining table.

"New England Boiled Dinner!" he exclaimed, his eyebrows elevating. "It's been...well...I don't know _how _long since I've last had this."

"Sure smells good, Miss Cassie!" Hoss said eagerly, smiling his thanks to Becky as she placed her platter closest to his end of the table. Cassandra bore hers to the end of the table where Ben sat, taking the opportunity to inspect the area. Satisfied that there was sufficient rolls, butter and lemonade on that end of the table, the woman moved to the other end of the table and gave everyone permission to be seated. Zach held Cassie's chair and Gabriel helped Naomi...and Joe looked chagrined when Adam beat him out to hold Becky's chair for her.

"Would you kindly do us the honor of saying grace, Ben?" the woman opposite the head of the Cartwright clan asked. Ben did so, then noticed that Gabriel, who was sitting on Ben's left, was staring, round-eyed, at him as the entire family murmured their "amen" at the end of the prayer.

"Yes, Gabriel..?" he prompted. The boy blinked.

"You said that in _English!"_ Gabriel told him in a voice that was clearly quite stunned. Zach and Becky smiled and Cassandra chuckled.

"Gabriel," his guardian told him, "While it's true that _we _give our thanks in Latin, the important part is that we give our thanks. God hears us, no matter what language we choose to speak to Him with." With that matter explained, the people assembled settled down to their meal.

Both Ben and Adam had actually had the occasion to have New England Boiled Dinner before—the dish was made of a beef brisket that was, as the name of the recipe implied, boiled in a pot with potatoes, carrots, onions, turnips and cabbage. The Cartwrights were pleasantly surprised to find that Cassie had used brined beef in her recipe, which was the way it was supposed to be made, but since the process of brining the meat was rather time-consuming, oftentimes the brisket was simply used without being brined first. Nevertheless, both Hoss and Joe complimented the meal along with their older brother and father.

The twins were allowed to choose the topic of the discussion at the dinner table and after the meal was done, as they were the ones who would be going to bed the soonest. Gabriel and Naomi were eager to talk about the different things they learned in school and to ask questions about them.

"Mama...may we hear Zach and Becky play?" Gabriel asked, eliciting glances of surprise between the Cartwrights.

"Please, Mama?" Naomi added her own plea, batting the lashes of her big blue eyes. "Just one song before we go to bed?" Cassandra's gray eyes turned towards the two teenagers who looked at each other with expressions of long-suffering.

"Oh, all right!" Zach said, drawing out the last word. "But we have no idea where the fiddle and pipes are—"

"We do! We do!" the twins chorused and raced off into the kitchen, whereupon their older brother and sister grinned at each other.

"It's a sort of game they play." Cassie explained. "The twins just love to go get the instruments." Soon the pair returned, Naomi carrying a strangely-shaped canvas item and another object in her hands, while Gabriel toted along a guitar.

"Gabriel," Zach said laughingly, "Nobody here plays guitar!" The youngster blinked, then smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry...I still remember when Pa did." He looked a bit soberly at the guitar and turned to go put it back.

"Wait a moment, if you please." Ben said, then looked at Adam, who tilted his head and looked to Cassandra.

"I play the guitar, if you'll be so kind as to give me permission..?" the eldest Cartwright son asked. The twins looked hopefully at the woman they now considered their mother.

"Thank you, Adam, we'd be honored." Cassandra inclined her head. Gabriel handed Adam the guitar and he and Naomi quickly settled at his feet, beaming expectantly up him. Adam lifted an eyebrow at Cassie, who put a finger to the side of her chin in an exaggerated manner, tapping it as she considered out loud what, oh _what _could they possibly play..? The twins burst out with "Clementine! Clementine!" Their exuberance prompted Cassandra to laugh.

All Ben could think of was that beauty mark of hers and how it drew one's attention to her mouth. He was unaware that he had been leaning towards her until he was nearly startled off his chair by the sudden strains of the song beginning. However, Ben managed to recover himself and sing along with the others.

The twins managed to get "O, Susanna!" to be played as well, but then Cassie quite firmly insisted that they go to bed. Gabriel bowed and Naomi curtsied, then the pair took themselves reluctantly off to their loft beds.

"Becky..?" Zach looked to her. She smiled, nodding, then turned to Adam.

"If you know 'Ode to Joy,' I play the melody for that." she said to him. The eldest Cartwright son thought for a moment and nodded. Then all three musicians began to play the lovely song; Zach was playing the fiddle that had been in the specially-made canvas bag, and Becky was the one blowing into an odd-looking set of pipes that seemed to work an awful lot like a harmonica, only they sounded much prettier. Joe thought that if the angels in Heaven played something besides harps and trumpets, this instrument was likely to be it.

"What kind of pipes are those?" Joe asked curiously after the song was finished. Becky smiled.

"My Pa told me these are pan pipes." she explained. "He got them from a Greek sailor whose life he saved. I taught myself how to play them."

"They sound real pretty." Hoss complimented her. Rebecca smiled and thanked him.

"Zach." Cassie said quietly. "Are you up to Mendelssohn?" The young man grew thoughtful.

"I don't know...it's been a while since I practiced that..."

"Please try." his aunt urged him. He thought for a moment more, then nodded. Becky put her pipes in her lap. Adam took that as his cue to not accompany Zach on the guitar, either...not that he knew how to do so if his guess about what Zach was about to play was correct.

The blond young man stood straight, his posture no longer casual. Then he put bow to strings and started to play. Adam had to think for a moment, but he identified the first movement of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto Allegro molto appassionato in E minor. He also could tell that Zach was playing the piece brilliantly, with the intensity and passion that the composer intended for it. It was a thing of beauty to hear, for simply listening to it transported each listener to the heights of their own inner sanctum of peace.

There was a moment of silence after the last note vibrated to a stop. Then there was applause—from the kitchen door. The twins were still up, drawn from their beds by the music, as evidenced by the fact that they were in their nightrails.

"Children!" Cassandra got to her feet and her tone was chiding but not overly stern as she went to go make sure the pair returned to their beds. Ben turned back to see that Zach had on his face a smile that Ben had been blessed to see on his own sons' faces many a time—the smile of a man who took pride in his accomplishments.

"Zach...have you applied to any music academies?" Adam asked him, putting the guitar aside. Zach's blue eyes darted to Adam's face, surprise in their depths. Then he blinked and held out his hand to Becky, who looked a bit anxious but gave him her pipes. The lad then excused himself and walked away, apparently to store the instruments once more.

"You...you'll have to excuse Zach, Mr. Cartwright..." the blond girl said a bit timidly, "...you see...last autumn, a friend of Mama's visited us. He's with an orchestra back East. He...he heard Zach and gave him a letter of introduction to the orchestra...but...but Zach can't go there..." She trailed off, her face flaming. Ben sat back a bit, suddenly realizing that this was one of the major reasons that Cassie had built the station—so that Zach could follow what was obviously his life's calling in music.

"Zach has asked me to send his apologies," Cassandra's voice broke into the tension as she re-appeared in the public room, "He's tired and needs to go to bed himself. He works very hard here at the station."

"He should be in an academy of music." Ben mused. He felt as well as saw Cassie's clear gray eyes upon him.

"Zach will be able to follow his dream...soon." she said carefully. "It's just that he's young, and...well, 'soon' is nowhere near soon _enough _for him."

The conversation between the Callahans and the Cartwrights was interesting and engaging, and Ben was surprised when it was Adam who reminded him that they all had to get up early tomorrow. The startled ranch owner looked at his sons: Adam had that twinkle in his eye that denoted he knew exactly why Ben had lost track of time, Hoss was yawning and Joe was speaking to Becky in a low voice, also unaware that it was getting as late as it was.

"Please forgive me, Cassandra, I didn't realize the time had flown!" Ben apologized, getting to his feet. Adam bowed, thanking Cassie and Rebecca for their hospitality and herded Hoss and Joe out the door, much to Joe's chagrin.

"There's nothing to forgive, Ben." the woman with the hair of silver and gold smiled at him. "I quite forgot the lateness of the hour as well. I was enjoying the company far too much." Ben reached out to take Cassie's hand in his.

"As was I." he admitted readily, then felt a compulsion to add: "Cassandra, there's a church picnic after the services this Sunday..." Ben hesitated as it dawned on him that he was taking a rather big step.

"Yes, I know." the station manager agreed. "My family is attending." Her eyes remained on his face, waiting for Ben to finish asking what he'd intended. The silver-maned man forced himself around the mental obstacle that was balking him.

"I would be honored if your family joined ours for the duration of the picnic." Ben said a bit anxiously. Cassandra's smile made his heart thump in anticipation.

"The honor would be ours." she told him with a nod. "Just let Hop Sing know that I intend to make sure there is enough dessert and beverages for both our families...that way he can concentrate on providing enough of the picnic meal."

"I'll do that, Cassandra." Ben confirmed, smiling back at her. "Thank you for a wonderful evening. Good night." He bent and raised her hand to his lips.

"You're welcome...and good night, Ben." the lady bade him as he slowly released her hand and then went out the door to where his sons waited with the horses. The younger Cartwrights added their thanks and well-wishes as they mounted up and then rode off with Cassie waving good bye from the station door.

The Cartwright quartet got home, tended the horses and got into the house before Ben announced that they'd be joining the Callahans for the church picnic this Sunday. Hoss was surprised but pleasantly so, and Joe didn't mind it either. Adam didn't seem to react much at all. Ben wished them a good night and took himself off to his bedroom.

"Well, Hoss," Joe said to the middle Cartwright brother, "Looks like you're going to have another chance for more of that beef of Cassie's...what was it called, Adam..?"

"It's corned beef in New England Boiled Dinner, Joe." Adam answered, his hazel eyes still on the stairway their father had exited the room on.

"Mm-mmm!" Hoss hummed his appreciative anticipation. "You gotta admit, Li'l Joe...that was some mighty fine food!"

"It sure was different from what Hop Sing usually makes." the youngest brother agreed. "I wouldn't mind having it again...apparently, Pa feels the same way."

"Oh?" Hoss looked at Joe. "What makes you say that?"

"Didn't you hear him on the way back, Hoss?" Joe said with a grin. "He was _whistling."_

"Pa whistles when he's happy." the middle brother agreed, nodding his sandy head.

"I'm glad it wasn't just my imagination, then." Adam said suddenly, then pushed off from the desk he'd been leaning against. "Well...good night, gentlemen." There was a quirk to his lips as he bid his brothers good night. Joe and Hoss followed him up the stairs, wondering about how this newest development would effect them and the Ponderosa...but mostly about its effect on their beloved father.

Adam, however, was almost certain that the Callahans were about to very deeply effect the Ponderosa—specifically, Cassie was deeply effecting Ben. Joe and Hoss had caught on to the fact that Ben had been whistling, but Adam had sensed something earlier...the way Ben had been utterly absorbed in the tiniest idiosyncrasies the woman displayed this evening. At one point Adam had been sure that his Pa was about to fall off his chair, he was staring at Cassie so.

If it turned out that Adam's—and his brothers'—hunches about their father were correct, that meant that there was a very good possibility that Adam would, once more, find himself brother/surrogate father to a brood of youngsters.

And Adam found that he didn't mind that thought at all.

CHAPTER SEVEN

BEN CARTWRIGHT SMILED at the bucolic scene around him: Gabriel and Naomi, the seven-year-old Callahan twins, were laughing and playing an energetic game of tag with about a half-a-dozen of their schoolmates. His youngest son was teamed with Zach Callahan in the horseshoe-pitching competition as Zach's sister, Becky, sat with the other young ladies of the community and cheered them on. Adam was keeping company with a group of men who preferred discussing the latest news published in the local newspaper. This left the large two-blanket picnic area to just the silver-maned rancher and the pretty silver-and-gold-haired lady that headed up the two different broods.

"Would you like another biscuit..?" Cassandra's smile nudged at the dark little mole that Ben was always finding so very fascinating. The lady leaned towards Ben as she spoke, offering the basket of biscuits. Ben appreciated the fact that there was nobody here but the two of them—

"Why, thank you kindly, Miss Cassie!" A large hand went with the booming voice that rudely interrupted whatever may have been on Ben's mind.

Oh, yes...only the two of them...and Hoss, who took up another of Hop Sing's biscuits and went back to enjoying his food.

For the first time in years, the partriarch of the Cartwright family found himself starting to get annoyed that one of his own offspring was keeping his company. He worried for a moment on exactly what kind of a father that made him.

"You're welcome, Hoss." Cassie replied, humor in her voice and expression. "Are you partial to blackberry turnovers?"

"Why, yes, ma'am," the largest Cartwright son said with an emphatic nod. "I love anything with blackberries in them." He smiled and turned his attention back to consuming his newly-acquired biscuit.

"I'm glad to hear that because I overheard Miss Harris ask Mrs. Weatherbee to kindly save you some." the way station manager told him earnestly. The biscuit halted halfway to Hoss' mouth.

"Mercy did that?" he asked, his cobalt eyes round.

"Not fifteen minutes ago." Cassie assured him. Hoss abandoned his plate and scrambled to his feet with the utmost alacrity, mumbling something about needing to "check the horses bye Pa later..." and he was off. Ben blinked, amazed, then he turned a suspicious eye towards the all-too-innocent-looking woman on the picnic blanket with him.

"Cassandra Callahan," he intoned smoothly, "I should hope that you haven't been telling tales to my son right after a sermon on the evils of deception _and_ during a church social to boot." Cassie blinked ingenuous gray eyes.

"Now, Ben Cartwright, I certainly did _no_ such thing! I surely _did_ hear Miss Harris ask Mrs. Weatherbee to kindly save a half-dozen blackberry turnovers..." the silvered blond woman said, then added: "...of course...I—like Hoss—simply _assumed_ that she asked so that he could have them, because I didn't hear her say exactly _why_ she wanted them saved." Ben quirked an eyebrow at her, but Cassie merely twitched her lips, which drew his attention to that beauty mark of hers.

"Oh, look!" she pointed out in stage whisper. "No children here anymore—only us adults!" Ben's brown eyes met Cassandra's in a startled glance. She reached into biscuit basket and held out the biscuit she plucked from it. "Biscuit, Ben?" He extended his left hand and took the biscuit from her grasp with it, but his right hand then slid quite comfortably into her palm.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Her fingers curled around his, and they sat there like that while the events of the picnic unfolded around them.

HOSS SCANNED THE groupings of picnickers in the area, looking specifically for a jet-tressed schoolmarm...and smiled when his eyes settled on the figure of a woman in a gown of golden yellow sprigged cotton. She was holding a plate of blackberry turnovers and looking around, as though seeking someone out in the crowd. The middle Cartwright son grinned and strode forward, confident that she was looking just for him.

"Good afternoon, Mercy." Hoss greeted her brightly, and felt warm inside when he saw her emerald eyes light up at the sight of him.

"Good afternoon, Hoss." the teacher said with a smile. "I'm glad to see you. You must have known we were looking for you."

"You were..?" he asked, eying the plate of turnovers.

"Yes...Mrs. Weatherbee said she would go and get you so that you can take these—" Mercy said, brandishing the plate up at him. Hoss reached for one, but was interrupted by a shake of the young lady's head.

"No...I mean she said she was 'rustling up a Cartwright' so that you can take these _and _me to Mr. Carruthers' place." Mercy explained with a twinkle in her eye. "Poor man injured his back and couldn't come out to church and the picnic."

"Oh, right...I...I remember hearin' about that." Hoss replied, inwardly crestfallen at not being able to have one of the turnovers. They looked really good. However...this _was_ an excuse to go driving with the pretty educator, so he perked right up again.

"Well, then, Mercy," the large man told her, "As long as I'm here, I may as well escort—"

"There you are, Miss Harris!" Again Hoss was interrupted, this time by the no-nonsense tone of Mrs. Amelia Weatherbee, one of Virginia City's cornerstones of the community...and a woman known to be a matchmaking busybody. She was a petite female, shorter than Mercy, but this made her no less intimidating to Hoss...and, apparently, to Adam, whom she had in tow. "I have just the man for the job—Adam Cartwright, this is Mercy Harris. Mercy, this is Adam. Now...you two children go take Mr. Carruthers his plate of turnovers. Sit with him a bit—he's bound to be so very lonely, what with his back being hurt and all."

As the inveterate matchmaker was monopolizing the verbal conversation, Adam gave Hoss a sort of helpless look: _I had __no__ idea that Mrs. Weatherbee was dragging me into this!_

"But, Mrs. Weatherbee, Hoss is right here—" Mercy started to say. Hoss' expression and silent sigh was his response: _I know...looks like we ain't got no choice in this—we both know how Mrs. Weatherbee gets when there's a bee in her bonnet._

"No, no, no! _He_ isn't right for...the job." Mrs. Weatherbee insisted. "Besides...I need Hoss for something else." Now she took Mercy's elbow and pushed her to stand next to the eldest Cartwright brother. "There, now—what a handsome couple you make! Run along—we can't have poor Mr. Carruthers suffering all by himself with nobody for company, now, can we?" Adam's left eyebrow twitched: _If Mrs. Weatherbee has her way, she'll have Mercy Harris and myself married before the week is out._

"I...I suppose not, Mrs. Weatherbee." Mercy capitulated weakly, unable to overcome the pint-sized force of nature that was determined to throw the two educated young people together. Hoss gave Mercy a rather tight-lipped smile and a bow, but the older brother saw a determined glint in the depths of the younger man's eyes: _I'm givin' Mercy a chance to see if she prefers you over me...but if she don't...ain't nothin' gonna keep me away!_

"Well, that's settled, then." Adam said, sweeping an arm out in front of him. "If you'll allow me to escort you to our surrey, Miss Harris, I'll be happy to aid you on this mission of mercy." The brothers' silent communication ended as Adam turned away to fulfill the task forced on him by the matron, but Mercy's glance back at Hoss made it equally clear that she, too, wasn't satisfied with the outcome of this errand assignment. Hoss nodded reassuringly to her.

"This way, then, Hoss Cartwright." Mrs. Weatherbee said sharply, bringing his attention back to her. "I need your help to set up another table for more of the food." She glided away, looking like a ship in full sail—if a ship had frills all over those sails, that is.

"Yes, ma'am." he replied, following her. Hoss then spent the next half hour setting up that table and trying to disentangle himself from the clutches of Rhoda Lee Detweiller, a very tall but very skinny redhead who was apparently Mrs. Weatherbee's idea of the ideal mate for Hoss. Not that Rhoda Lee was an unpleasant girl—she was actually rather nice...but she wasn't Mercy.

Oh, well...it could have been worse, Hoss reasoned to himself—Mrs. Weatherbee might have paired Mercy with Joe. Hoss couldn't trust his younger brother not to try sweet-talking Mercy into something. Adam, on the other hand, Hoss could trust—unless Mercy was of a mind to spark to him...and Adam, besides being all dark and handsome and all, could talk fancy, like Mercy tended to do.

Maybe it _hadn't_ been such a good idea to let them go out to visit Mr. Carruthers, after all.

Hoss finally managed to get away from Rhoda Lee and was walking back to where the Callahan-Cartwright double blankets were spread out when a high-pitched voice squealed out his name. He was underneath the outer bowers of an ancient cottonwood tree and looked up to spy the source of the shout: Naomi Callahan.

"See me, Hoss?" she yelled exuberantly, jumping up and down in her excitement. "I climbed the highest! I'm the highest one!" That she was, Hoss noted, growing pale—the girl was about forty feet up in the tree, and on a dangerously thin branch in the outer canopy.

"Naomi! Don't jump like—" Even as the large man shouted his warning, there was a sickening crack and the branch the little girl was on broke off, crashing to the ground a few feet away from Hoss. Naomi shrieked, her feet kicking out into the air as she dangled by only the handhold she had on a branch above her—but then, that, too, snapped off, sending the seven-year-old plunging to the ground as dozens of on-lookers screamed in terror. Hoss threw himself forward, praying that the child wouldn't be too badly hurt...

BEN BASKED IN the warmth of the sunshine, holding Cassandra's hand and conceding that, yes, it seemed that love just may have blessed him yet again during his lifetime. He privately thanked God for this miracle.

"Cassandra." the rancher said, his hand on hers tightening a bit.

"Yes, Ben?"

"I...I want to come calling on you...officially...not just my family seeing yours...but _me_...seeing _you."_

Her gray eyes widened, then she slowly smiled, an effect that, to Ben, outshone the late summer sun and was infinitely warmer as well.

"Yes, Ben." she answered firmly. He lifted the slender hand that he held to his lips, kissing it.

Then there was a scream that caught the not-so-young lovers' attention—not because it was a scream, but because it was actually many people screaming, all at once, from the direction of a huge cottonwood tree. Both Cassie and Ben were immediately on their feet, hurrying to where a crowd had gathered. They were met halfway by a pale and shaky Gabriel.

"Mama! Mama!" the boy yelped. "Naomi fell outta the tree—Hoss tried to catch her!" Fear clutched the hearts of both parents and squeezed them hard in a grip of freezing pain. Ben grabbed Cassie's hand and both of them raced to the tree, battling their way through the crowd and breaking through to see both their children at the foot of the tree.

"Naomi!" "Hoss!" Cassandra and Ben cried simultaneously.

Huddled protectively around the crying child in his arms, Hoss Cartwright rocked Naomi Callahan, murmuring comfort. He looked up and around, his cobalt eyes settling on his father.

"Pa...we need Doc Martin...she hit her arm on a branch on the way down...I think it's broke." he said. Ben immediately bellowed for his friend the physician.

"I'm here, I'm here—no need to yell." Paul announced, the crowd stepping aside for him. Cassandra moved forward to go to her daughter, but Ben's hands on her shoulders kept her in place.

"Let Paul tend to her first." he advised softly, his heart going out to her as he felt the breath hitch in her body. Cassie then lifted her right hand to cover the one he had on her left shoulder.

"The arm's broken, all right." Paul declared. "But it's not a bad break...more like a fracture, really. Let's get her back to my office and I'll put a cast on it." Hoss looked up at Cassandra.

"Hey, look, Smidgeon, it's your Mama." he told her. Cassie rushed forward to kneel by the injured girl, her hand smoothing back the blond hair that had fallen across Naomi's sweaty brow.

"Naomi." she whispered, her gray eyes searching the little girl's face. Naomi's sapphire eyes blinked sorrowfully up at Cassie.

"Mama...'m sorry...Hoss tried to tell me to stop...but I fell..." The girl shifted and cried out at the pain in her arm.

"No, no, Naomi, be still, sweetie." Cassandra's hands framed the youngster's face. "Hoss is going to take you to the doctor's office and we'll do what we must to get you better...don't you worry now." Since Adam had taken the Cartwrights' vehicle to drive Mercy to visit Mr. Carruthers, Zach, Rebecca and Joe took Gabriel in hand while Ben, Hoss and Cassie used the Callahans' buckboard to get Naomi to Doc Martin's office.

The picnic at the church resumed on a much more sober note.

CASSIE HAD TO keep reminding herself that a broken left arm did _not_ mean that she was a horrible parent, but she had to admit it was mighty comforting to have Ben's arm around her shoulders as they sat in the outer room at Paul Martin's, where she, Ben and Hoss waited for the physician to finish setting Naomi's arm.

"I...I don't have the words to thank you, Hoss," the woman with the silver-and-gold hair told him, emotion choking her voice, "If you hadn't been there...if you hadn't caught Naomi..."

"Don't fret yourself about it, Miss Cassie," the modest middle son downplayed his heroics, "Painful as it was, that branch Naomi hit when she came down most likely broke her fall. I just happened to catch her after that."

"Mrs. Weatherbee said Naomi had to have been forty feet up." Cassandra countered. "Even if she broke her arm halfway down, you still likely saved her life, not to mention the chance you took if she hit you the wrong way." Hoss blushed a bit.

"Well, ma'am, to be honest," he responded, "I don't think that li'l smidgeon of a gal woulda hurt me none even if that'd happened...which it didn't."

"Thank you, anyway, Hoss." Cassie said. "I'm glad you were there."

"So'm I, Miss Cassie." The sandy-haired man was rather thoughtful when he told her that. The worried mother had no way of knowing, of course, that Hoss was thinking on the twist of fate that had kept him at the picnic instead of driving Mercy to visit Mr. Carruthers. God did, indeed, work in mysterious ways, it seemed...although Hoss was sure that Adam would have been every bit as lucky as Hoss had been in catching the little girl falling from the tree had the brothers' places been switched.

Well, _pretty_ sure, anyhow.

CHAPTER EIGHT

JOE AND HOSS were taking a break from pitching hay when they noticed that their father was, yet again, mounting Buck in order to ride out.

"Where are you going, Pa?" Joe asked in what was meant to be an innocent voice.

"I'll be back before dinner." Ben told his sons. "I'm...paying a call on a neighbor." The head of the Cartwright clan normally didn't skirt issues, but he surely didn't trust that teasing sort of gleam in his youngest son's eye.

"That's about the fifth time in the past couple weeks, isn't it, Pa?" Joe observed aloud, grinning and winking at Hoss, who was more than willing to add:

"And you're wearing your vest again, Pa—you know...the one you don't usually tote out 'cept for Christmas and such..?" Ben's middle son pointed out, although his smile didn't have the smirking sort of quality that Joe's had.

"That's enough out of you two!" Ben replied in a growl. "So I'm seeing...an extra-special neighbor. I could always choose to mark the occasion by assigning some extra chores that need doing..." Both of his sons wished him well on his journey and assiduously bent to their present task of pitching hay. Ben nodded and reined Buck around, cantering off towards Callahan Station.

As he rode along, Ben let his mind range over the way the two weeks after that picnic had unfolded: he had, indeed, been visiting Cassandra rather frequently. Every time he came away from such visits, he counted the days to the next one. It had been barely a month since he'd been introduced to the woman, and yet Ben knew, deep down inside, that she was somebody he wanted to spend the rest of his days with.

The prospect of Ben telling his three adult sons that he was hoping to marry once again was a bit daunting. He knew that they would be happy for him, but he also could empathize with them enough to know that the idea of their fifty-three-year-old father marrying again might be a bit uncomfortable for them—especially Joe, who had a very hard time thinking of Ben as anything else but his "old Pa."

Ben smiled to himself, thinking that, if he had his way, he would soon have to handle helping Gabriel and Naomi along their paths in life...and, to a lesser extent, Zacharias and Rebecca, too. After raising his three sons, Ben was fairly sure he could do that again...although the prospect of dealing with Becky and Naomi made him a bit anxious, there was a larger part of him that looked forward to that challenge.

The first step would be finding the right moment to ask Cassandra if she would have Ben at all. This visit wouldn't quite be it, but Ben wanted to ask her soon.

When Ben arrived at Callahan Station, Zach greeted the venerable rancher with a grin and a wave, approaching Ben with an eager gait as the older man dismounted.

"Mr. Cartwright, I'd like to ask you something." he said eagerly.

"All right, then, Zach...what is it?"

"Sir," Zach said in a confidential tone, "We're having a party to celebrate Mama's birthday next week, and we want to invite you and your family to come." Ben grinned.

"I'd be honored, Zach, and so would my sons."

"Good." the blond boy responded, nodding. "It's going to be next Thursday, starting at about five o'clock. We've invited practically everyone...but you can't tell Mama—it's a surprise for her. She thinks we're just going to have a few friends over, but this year we want to really, really surprise her!"

"Oh, I'd say that having practically everyone here at the station will be a real surprise, Zach," Ben agreed, "And don't you worry—I won't say a word to her."

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright." the younger male turned to leave, but paused long enough to add: "By the way—Mama's wearing a brand-new blouse just for you today." Then Zach strode off, whistling.

Ben spent a pleasant few hours sitting and talking with the pretty station manager with the silver-and-gold hair. He greeted her with a smile and a bow and remarked on the way the blue flowers embroidered on her blouse seemed to make her eyes stand out even more. Cassandra's resultant rather pleased blush made her prettier still. Ben made a mental note to make sure to thank Zach for telling him about that blouse—it wasn't that the older man was ignorant of what women wore (especially Cassandra), it was simply that Ben felt that the woman could make even sackcloth and ashes look good. He also had the wisdom to know that women liked to hear their men appreciate their looks or efforts every once in a while.

When he left, Ben kissed Cassandra's hand in farewell...and he whistled on the way home, too.

BEN ANNOUNCED AT dinner the invitation to the birthday celebration for Cassandra being held by the four children she was caring for. This met with smiles and nods.

"That's mighty nice of them kids to do that for her." Hoss said warmly.

"I'm not surprised that they'd want to organize something like this for Cassie." Adam agreed. "She's worked very hard to make sure that the children not only have a home but a means of support that they can all participate in."

"And they're inviting practically everyone in Virginia City to help celebrate." Joe pointed out. "It's going to rival the harvest festival, I bet...and I think there's nobody who deserves a party like this more than Miss Cassie does."

"What d'you all think about givin' Miss Cassie that nice mare we got this spring?" Hoss asked. Joe considered for a moment.

"Ivory? The one with the black mane and tail?" the youngest Cartwright son clarified. Hoss nodded and Adam chewed his roast beef for a moment before nodding as well.

"If I'm remembering correctly, Ivory's got a sweet disposition and is very patient." the eldest son said. "She'd be the perfect choice for Cassie, who isn't the most adventurous rider." The trio all agreed with their choice of a gift.

"What will you be giving Miss Cassie, Pa?" Joe asked their father. Ben decided to let his boys know exactly what it was he planned to give the woman.

"I'm going to have to go into Virginia City to see what I would like to give Cassandra for her birthday," he admitted, "But I'm hoping that she's also going to accept it when I offer her my name."

"Whatever you do, Pa," Joe replied with a grin, "Try to make sure that you don't—" Then he halted, his emerald eyes rounding as he suddenly realized what Ben had just said. His glance over at his older brothers showed they were exchanging wide and very pleased grins.

"You're sure, Pa?" his youngest asked, his eyes dancing impishly. "This is kind of a serious step, you know—taking on a responsibility like this at your age." Ben quirked an eyebrow at Joe, but he chuckled.

"Gonna need to make sure that Hop Sing keeps plenty of coffee on hand for ya, too, Pa, 'cuz you're gonna need all the energy you can get..." Hoss said, smirking at Ben's expression, adding: "...if you're gonna even try to keep up with them twins of hers. They're like a pair of them Chinese firecracker wheels—whizzin' an' buzzin' an' cracklin' all the time."

"Is there anything that you want to add, son?" Ben asked of Adam, not trusting his oldest's neutral expression at all. Adam blinked ingenuous hazel eyes as he sipped coffee from his cup.

"Me? Why, no, Pa...I have nothing to add except my congratulations." he said smoothly. "I'll leave the 'old age' jokes to Joe."

"Thank you." Ben replied with a nod and a glare that soon turned into an expression of dreamy anticipation. All three of his sons took pity on him and refrained from doing any more teasing...at least, they promised not to do so until after Cassandra Callahan had agreed to marry their father, for what other answer could the spirited station manager give the master of the Ponderosa?

"NO, JOE...IT'S crooked!" Becky told the young man as he attempted once more to hang the banner wishing Cassandra Callahan a happy birthday so that it stretched across the front of the way station. Joe grimaced—this was about the tenth time that he'd had to climb back up the ladder and adjust the banner because Rebecca "Little Miss Perfectionist" Callahan thought that one end or the other was too high. She sure was pushy for someone as young as she was.

"All right..." Joe moved the end he was holding up higher by a few more inches, "...how about now?"

"Becky, Becky!" the double chorus that was Gabriel and Naomi sounded from beside their older sister. "The guests are coming!" Becky turned her head and saw that the twins were, indeed, correct: the first of the guests were arriving for the party. She frowned and turned back to where Joe was patiently holding up the banner.

"Better." she announced. "Go on and nail it up, then, Joe...and thank you. I have to go check on the food." It was with no small relief that Joe hammered the nail into place and scrambled down the ladder. He looked around, smiling at the brightly decorated front yard of the way station. He, Adam, Hoss and Hop Sing had arrived about ten minutes after Ben had come to the station to ask Cassandra to go driving with him. It had been the Cartwright elder's job to keep Cassie occupied while the rest of the men came and aided the Callahan children with decorating the party areas and making sure that the food was set up and ready. Hoss and Adam had gone to make sure that there was space for the arriving horses and vehicles to be parked out of immediate sight; the twins had been assigned lookout duty; and Zach and Joe had been helping with decorating the place while Hop Sing set up the food tables. This had left Becky in charge of organizing everything—and quite the little martinet she'd been, too, Joe thought.

She probably ran each and every tea party she and her little friends ever gathered for...however, Joe had to admit that everything was coming together nicely. Just give Becky another couple of years, and she'd likely have all the local boys falling all over themselves to be under her command. Unbidden, the memory of when the pretty blond had clung to him after that incident with the bounty hunters had come up came to Joe's mind, forcing him to smile to himself as he admitted that Joe himself was likely to be a willing recruit.

Right now, however, there were still lamps to put in place for when it got dark, so the youngest Cartwright brother went to finish that task.

Becky, meanwhile, hurried over to where most of the tables from the public room of the station had been pushed together in order to provide the serving area for all the food that was for the party. She smiled at the Chinese man bustling about the area as he made sure that each of the dishes had utensils to serve with.

"How is everything, Mr. Hop Sing?" she asked.

"Everything ready for party, Missy Becca." Hop Sing answered. "I make extra big basket fried chicken..." He pointed to the absolutely huge basket that dominated one end of the buffet spread, "...maybe that way Mr. Hoss not eat everything else before guests get chance." Rebecca giggled.

"I surely hope so, Mr. Hop Sing." she said with a smile. "This all looks very good. Thank you for helping—and enjoy yourself at the party!" The oriental man smiled and nodded. Becky saw that the first of the guests that the twins had warned her about were already moving into the party area, so she hurried over to greet them.

Meanwhile, Ben was hard-pressed to not use the drive with Cassandra as an excuse to propose to her, but he had planned on doing so after she had been honored at her birthday celebration. The rancher grimaced mentally, admitting that he didn't want to risk her rejecting him and wanted to ask her while she was still flush with the good feelings the party was likely to generate for her.

Regardless of his ruminations, the drive was lovely and Ben definitely appreciated the time alone with the silver-and-gold-haired woman. A surreptitious look at his pocket-watch told Ben that it was time for him to head back for Cassandra's party and so he whipped up the horses to trot on back to the station. The woman beside him sighed contentedly.

"A penny for your thoughts?" prompted Ben. Cassie's smile was languid and drew the man's attention to her mole again, so that he almost missed what she was saying.

"I'm thinking how very lucky I am." she told him earnestly. "It's a beautiful day...surrounded by nature's finest...and I'm in the company of the most wonderful man. It can't get any better." As she spoke, Cassandra drew closer to Ben, snuggling against his left arm and leaning her head against his shoulder.

Ben nearly stopped the buggy just then, sorely tempted to simply skip waiting until the party.

Then he smiled himself, determined to prove Cassie wrong: things could better—_very _much better!

The man clucked to the horses, picking up the pace back to the station. By the time they got there, it looked as though a good majority of the population of Virginia City was there. Cassandra's face flushed but held a pleased expression as the Callahan children greeted her with rather exuberant birthday wishes. Cassie's silver-gray eyes slid to where Ben was, glowing with humor and—did Ben dare to think it—with love?

The party was lively and fun, with all of the guests enjoying the music of the musicians that Zach had arranged for as well as the food that was piled high on the tables. Cassandra certainly seemed to be in her element as she greeted guests, thanking them for coming and for their good wishes on her birthday.

"When are you going to ask her, Pa?" Adam's voice sounded beside Ben, who had been watching from a distance as Cassie had circulated and been the consummate hostess. The elder Cartwright turned to his firstborn.

"Soon, I think." Ben told him with a smile. "I wanted to let Cassandra enjoy her party for a bit first."

"Ah." Adam nodded sagely. "Trying to work up the courage." Ben gave him an irritated glance...because Adam was right—Ben was still trying to gage when Cassie would be in the best frame of mind to give Ben a positive answer to this very important question.

"I am _not_—" Ben began to deny, but the back of Adam's hand tapped his father's shoulder.

"Pa—look." Ben followed his son's concerned line-of-sight and saw something that he didn't like: a rather duded-up Ralph Foster looming over Cassandra. From her body language and the slight frown on her face, it was clear that she would rather have been without the man's company. Ben immediately strode over.

"—matters not to me that you haven't seen me in town, Mr. Foster." Cassie was saying to the councilman, "I have no interest in driving out with you. I'm quite busy with the station."

"Surely you can have your boy look after the place while we go to town?" the man persisted. The blond woman was passing annoyed and heading for angry.

"No." she said tersely. "Thank you for your interest, but no."

"Cassandra?" Ben asked, interrupting the other man. "May I have this dance?" There was a lively jig being played. The silvered blond smiled at the rancher and put out her hand.

"Indeed you may!" Neither of them looked back at the fuming councilman as they moved to the dance area and fell in with the other revelers. Adam allowed himself a smile...Mr. Foster was going to have to do a whole lot of self-improvement if he ever wanted to be considered in the same class as Ben Cartwright. It was obvious that Cassie Callahan didn't believe him to be, wealthy business owner and Virginia City councilman status notwithstanding.

The eldest Cartwright son scanned the boisterous and large crowd of people, his hazel eyes searching out the locations of his brothers. Hoss was over by the punch bowl, which wasn't too unusual for him, but he was speaking to a very animated Mercy Harris. Adam hoped that Miss Harris had the fortitude to withstand the numerous assaults on her eligibility as a bachlorette—said "assaulters" being Mrs. Weatherbee and a handful of others like her. Adam had been spending more time than he'd wanted to this evening dodging the matchmakers in their attempts to continue to pair up him and the schoolteacher.

Adam had suspected where the jet-tressed young lady's heart lay even before he'd been stampeded into driving her to visit Mr. Carruthers during the church social this past Sunday...but he had known for sure when they had approached Doc Martin's house on the way back to the picnic.

"Isn't that your family's buckboard?" Mercy asked, pointing at the vehicle in front of the doctor's house. Adam glanced over, his brows knitting.

"No...it looks like it's the Callahans', though." Adam replied, recognizing the nicks and battered wood on one side of the vehicle from the time that young Gabriel had been pretending that the buckboard was a medieval siege engine that he—as Sir Gabriel, knight of the Round Table—had been trying to stop with his homemade lance. By now the surrey Adam was driving was parallel with the buckboard, so he and Mercy were close enough to actually hear a voice speaking urgently from within the house. Both he and the schoolmarm instantly recognized the pitch and timbre...

"That's Hoss!" Mercy gasped, grabbing the driver's arm. "Stop the buggy!" She didn't even wait to see if Adam had done so before standing up and just about leaping out of the vehicle. Adam blinked, thinking that it was a good thing he had, indeed, halted the buggy. He pulled the brake lever, secured the reins and hurried after Mercy, where he discovered the same thing she had: Hoss, Pa and Cassie Callahan waiting for Doc Martin to finish setting Naomi's broken arm.

Mercy had insisted on staying and sat next to Hoss the whole time, speaking to him at length about the wildlife that abounded in the Carson Valley. Adam's slightly-uncomfortable position as a fifth wheel was reinforced by the fact that Cassie and Ben had also more or less stayed together during the wait, as well as on the drive back—Adam somehow wound up driving the surrey with Cassie, Naomi and Ben it it while Hoss and Mercy followed in the buckboard.

Joe surely would have been laughing at Adam being the odd man out in such a circumstance.

Adam's brow wrinkled as he looked over the party-goers and spotted none other than Frank MacGruder and his sons over by the refreshment table.

"Is everything all right, Adam?" Becky's voice asked him. The young lady was carrying a tray with punch cups and looking at the eldest Cartwright brother curiously.

"Everything is fine, thank you, Becky." Adam assured him. "The party seems to be going very well—everyone's having a good time...including the MacGruders." The blond girl glanced over at where the trio of farmers stood.

"They're enjoying the food, anyway." Becky said pointedly. "I think it's gonna take a stick of dynamite to get either Mr. MacGruder or Luther to dance with anyone. At least James isn't as shy...he's more like JJ."

"Where _is _Eve Jane, anyway..?" Adam asked nonchalantly. "I don't recall seeing her." Becky's reply was postponed as a pair of dancers stopped long enough to avail themselves of a pair of punch cups from the girl's tray.

"She wasn't with them." Becky said. "I don't think she came, because I didn't see her here with anyone else, either...not even Herman Voorhees." Adam glanced at the blond, his lips compressed.

"Surely you invited her?"

"Of course we did!" Becky insisted. "I have no idea why she isn't here, though. Excuse me, Adam...I have to go back to offering up these cups." The young lady moved off, leaving Adam with an expression that only the members of his family could decipher on his face: it was what Hoss dubbed his "thinkin' mask." Adam was turning over the bits and pieces of what he'd heard in his mind and was unable to reach a satisfactory conclusion about what was there so far. Since he couldn't come up with a conclusion, Adam walked across the dance area and sidled up to where the MacGruders were finishing loading up some plates for themselves.

"Good evening, Mr. MacGruder." Adam greeted the dour-looking man. Frank eyed the younger male, obviously noting the clean dress shirt, string tie and brand new trousers that Adam had worn for the occasion. Adam was certainly looking dapper in comparison to the work-worn clothing that the MacGruders were dressed in. At least young James had the wherewithal to make sure his own garments were clean.

"Evenin', Cartwright." Frank answered.

"It's nice to see your family out and about." Adam continued the conversation. "I know you've all been working rather hard to make up for that blight last year."

"Bustin' our butts plantin' them beans this season." Luther grunted.

"If'n Pa listened to JJ and done it last year," James piped up, "We woulda had a profit on the crop." Frank and Luther both glared at the youngest boy, who assumed an innocent expression—one that Adam didn't doubt was learned from his sister.

"Speaking of Eve Jane," Adam said smoothly, "I was wondering why she wasn't here with you—or is she off dancing with one of her beaus?" All three MacGruders stared at Adam before the ensuing silence was broken—by Luther's snorting laughter.

"Beaus?" he echoed, then slapped James on one shoulder. "D'ja hear that, Jimbo? He thinks our sister got _'beaus'!"_

"My daughter ain't dancin' with no one...less'n it's Herman." Frank said firmly.

"But she isn't even here to do that." James told Adam directly, surreptitiously rubbing the shoulder his boisterous brother had slapped. "She's at home, tendin' to Ma, cuz Ma can't go out, an' someone needs to stay with her."

"I'm surprised you didn't do that yourself, Mr. MacGruder." Adam said obliquely. "Mrs. MacGruder is _your _wife, after all."

"Don't get all high 'n' mighty with me, Adam Cartwright." snapped Frank. "It's woman's work to tend to their ailing kin, and not a man's job. JJ is in her place, doin' what she ought." With an accompanying glower, the older man growled an order to his sons to follow him and stalked away to where the rest of the tables with their benches had been arranged to provide a place for guests to sit down and eat.

Adam's thinking mask only disappeared when Lenora Price came over to him and artfully maneuvered him into dancing with her.

Joe was keeping an amused eye on how Hoss and Mercy were monopolizing each other's time, well aware that—had this been a soirée in New Orleans or some ball in Sacramento or the like, Mercy Harris would have likely been declared a "fast woman". However, they were at a much less formal birthday celebration on the outskirts of Virginia City...the most that would happen would be that any other man who may have been entertaining the idea of calling on the pretty schoolteacher would now know to abandon any such thoughts, for Hoss was looking well and truly smitten.

The youngest Cartwright son knew that he'd have plenty of wonderful opportunities to tease his big brother, opportunities that would make up for the intentionally-lost ones to tease his father. Joe walked over to the punch bowl to test to see if it had gotten any liquor poured into it yet, ladling out a small amount and tasting only unadulterated fruit juice.

"The educated punch is over on the other side."

Joe almost dropped the ladle because of the unexpected sound of Rebecca Callahan's voice at his side. He turned and frowned at her, in spite of the pretty picture she presented in her pink dress with roses on the bodice.

"What do you mean by _that?"_ he demanded, not wanting to admit to someone as young as Becky that he'd been looking for the alcoholic drink.

"I mean that the liquored-up punch is in the punch bowl at the other end of the table." she replied emphatically, as though explaining something to a dim-witted person. "The punch bowl that I have Zach standing guard over—we don't want children getting into it." Joe looked over at the other end of the long refreshment table and saw that Zach was, indeed, ladling out the punch from the bowl there, occasionally scooting a youngster away and gesturing towards the punch bowl he and Becky were at.

"Oh." Joe said, nonplussed, then—rather contrarily—he eyed Becky. "Say, what would _you _know about it, anyway? You're only fourteen or fifteen yourself!" The young lady's eyebrows rose.

"Actually, I'm—"

"Becky, Becky...punch please?" the tow-headed boy that Zach had shooed away was now tugging at the hostess' skirt, so she bent and presented the tray she was holding to him.

"Here you are, Arthur."

"Thank you!"

The exchange allowed Joe to escape without having to banter with Becky, who shook her head and, setting her tray down on the table, turned and went into the way station kitchen. The youngest Cartwright brother breathed a sigh of relief. If Becky was this precocious now, what would she be like in just another two or three years?

Joe hastily went to have a cup of "educated" punch so that he didn't have to think about it.

Ben drew Cassandra from the dance area, bringing her where there was a handy bench parked in a less-populated corner so that they could both sit together—he decided that he wasn't going to wait any longer to propose to her. He looked at her as she settled onto the bench and then turned smiling silver gray eyes up to him. Ben completely blanked for a moment, then, with rather frightening clarity, knew exactly how to ask her:

"Cassandra...I love you. Will you do me the honor of marrying me..?"

She blinked up at him for what seemed like an eternity. Then Cassandra opened her mouth, smiling...

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!"

The sentiment was suddenly shouted out by everyone else present, startling the couple into noticing that Becky was approaching them with a large rectangular cake that had decorations on it, as well as writing.

Ben's eyes widened, his all-encompassing joy plummeting to the depths of horror and despair as he saw what was on the cake:

_Happy 35th Birthday, Mama_

CHAPTER NINE

BEN STARED, DUMBSTRUCK, at the cake that announced his intended bride's age, and there was but one horrified thought echoing through his brain as he did so:

_'My God...I'm old enough to be Cassandra's father!'_

The honoree, however—quite unaware of Ben's reaction—was laughing.

"Who on Earth decorated the cake?" Cassie asked, chuckling. "The age is wrong." Ben felt a flood of relief. Ahhh...the numbers on the cake must have been reversed!

"I frosted it, Mama." Becky told her. "But Naomi was in charge of writing on it."

"Naomi?" the guardian turned to the little girl, still smiling. "Why do you have '35' on the cake? You know it's supposed to be '34'." Ben's respite of relief was drowned in a deluge of mortification.

_'I'm...I'm even __older__ than old enough to be her father!' _he thought, feeling utterly wretched.

"But, Mama," Naomi replied, "You said yourself that I scared you out of a year's growth when I broke my arm!" This statement elicited laughter from everyone at the party...everyone but Ben, who was still in a tailspin over the revelation that he had proposed to a woman almost twenty years his junior. He drew away from the vivacious blond's side, trying to work out the best way to withdraw his offer without looking like the old fool he felt he was.

How come he hadn't seen it? Cassandra's silver-and-gold hair had led Ben to believe she was far older than her thirty-four years. Her youthful-looking face should have tipped him off, but Ben knew a lot of people whose faces appeared younger than their age. Too late, he recalled that Adam called the woman "Cassie", rather than the more formal "Miss Cassie" that both Hoss and Joe accorded the station manager. Adam had addressed Cassandra as a contemporary, not as an elder.

Ben had absolutely no business pursuing the station manager...he was far too old for her. If he married her now, the disparity in their age would only become more pronounced as time rolled on. Cassie was far too vibrant a woman to be tied to a man who would become more and more of a physical liability the older they got. And Ben knew that many such women with husbands far older than themselves tended to seek companionship outside the marriage once the men in the marriage got too old to hold the lady's interest.

Ben would never be able to reconcile himself to anything like that.

No, for her own sake, he'd best withdraw his offer of marriage. If he didn't, he—_she_, the rancher corrected himself quickly—_she _would only get hurt.

Cassandra Callahan was having a fine time at her birthday party—truly she hadn't expected such a huge gathering, and the children were all being as good as gold. The people were having a good time, the food was wonderful...and Ben had proposed to her. She sighed happily. It had been horrible timing that they'd been interrupted when they were—now she had to circulate more, receiving more well-wishes and speaking to various guests, but Cassie was determined to get back to Ben and tell him that she would be thrilled and honored to accept his suit.

In truth, Cassandra had been quite surprised that Ben had proposed—as she had been pleasantly surprised that he had pursued her at all, in view of how old she was. However, her attraction to Ben had simply swept away all possible obstacles whenever he was around, and she never truly dwelt on the subject.

Her guests continued to monopolize her time and attention, so the lady with the silver-and-gold hair didn't immediately return to Ben Cartwright in order to give him her answer to his question.

REBECCA PLACED THE platter with the cake on it on the table. Now that her mother-in-spirit had cut the first piece out of it, she was free to cut the rest of it up and make it available to the guests. At the table, she saw that Hoss was still talking to Mercy Harris. With them were his brother Joe, as well as Parthena Applegate. Parthena was a petite redhead with green eyes that she was constantly batting at all the boys...Parthena also often boasted that she was the perfect match for Little Joe Cartwright, as their eyes were the same shade and they both looked so very good together.

Becky often wished that Parthena would develop a sty in those constantly-batting eyes of hers...especially now that she was clinging to one of Joe's arms and smiling up at him. Becky rolled her own eyes—what did she care, anyway? Little Joe Cartwright was every bit as much a skirtchaser as Parthena was boy-crazy. The redhead was right...she and Joe _were _a perfect match. Becky turned her attention to cutting up the cake, pretending (rather uncharitably) that it was Parthena she was chopping up into pieces instead.

"That cake sure looks good, Becky." Hoss said, interrupting her private—if a tad violent—fantasy. The young blond glanced at him and cut him a piece of cake.

"It's spice cake with strawberry frosting on it." she told him, handing the middle Cartwright brother the plate she put the piece on. "It sounds like an odd combination...but it's Mama's favorite...and it tastes good, actually." Hoss thanked her and went to taste a bite.

"Spice and strawberry?" The question was spoken rather scornfully—by none other than Parthena. "That's the oddest mix of flavors I've ever heard. But then, yours is an odd family, Rebecca...your aunt looks old enough to be your grandmother, but your sister lies about her age." Mercy, who was receiving a plate with cake on it, gasped at the redhead's vindictive comment. Joe glanced at Parthena, frowning.

"There's no call to say something like that, Parthena." he pointed out.

"Miss Callahan has more gray hair than my mother," Parthena said with a haughty toss of her head, "And my mother's forty-six!"

"Mama was born in 1828." Becky said with a bit of a scowl. "She's always told us that the Callahans have been a family with young skin and old hair." The schoolteacher tilted her raven head.

"Oh...you mean your faces look young—unwrinkled by the passage of time, but you all tend to get gray hair early?" Mercy asked, fascinated. Becky nodded.

"What nonsense!" Parthena snorted.

"No, it's true." Becky responded through clenched teeth. "Take me, for example—Joe told me earlier that I looked to be about fourteen or fifteen years old...but I'm going to be nineteen come Christmas...and I already have some gray hair." She cut another piece of cake, put it on a plate and practically shoved it at the youngest Cartwright son, who automatically accepted it.

"Ni-nineteen?" Joe stuttered, amazed.

"This is some mighty good cake, Becky." Hoss opined, completely ignoring the subject at hand.

"_Nineteen?"_ Joe repeated, slightly in shock because he just realized that if Becky was almost nineteen, that meant that he didn't have to continue keeping his distance from her as he had been doing ever since the Callahan family came to his attention a couple of years ago. Unfortunately, this same conclusion was drawn by Parthena, who was a notoriously possessive girl. It had taken her the better part of a year to get Little Joe Cartwright to become one of her beaus, and she did not want to lose him now.

"So that means that you'll soon be getting a head full of gray hair, too..?" she said acidly. "Just like your old maid aunt!"

Once more Mercy gasped. Hoss swallowed a mouthful of cake in an audible gulp. Joe was suddenly aware of the utter rigidity that had caused Becky, who had gone back to cutting more cake, to become as still as a statue. The blond girl plopped the piece of cake onto a plate and then slowly turned towards Parthena.

"I beg your pardon?" Becky's voice was pitched low...it sounded both sultry and deadly to Joe's ears, sending a shiver down his spine. The redhead next to him gave another unladylike snort.

"I said that _I_think you're going to end up a shriveled-up unmarried hag...like your aunt is _now!"_ Parthena taunted. Becky's sapphire eyes narrowed. Then she smiled very sweetly.

Joe knew this was _not _a good thing.

"And _I_think _you_ need some dessert." the blond said firmly, still smiling—and then she shoved the plate she was holding into the acid-tongued redhead's face. When Becky pulled the plate away, Parthena was standing there with cake-speckled pink frosting plastering her from brow to chin.

CASSANDRA CALLAHAN FINALLY managed to get the last of the people who were demanding her attention taken care of and find the time to look around for Ben, who had mysteriously disappeared. She spotted Hop Sing and asked him if he knew where the head of the Cartwright clan had gone.

"Mr. Cartwright—he go to the horses." the Chinese man told her.

"The horses?" Cassie echoed, puzzled.

"He go to get buggy, I think." Hop Sing clarified.

"You mean...he left?" Cassandra's voice and face was surprised. The man she was speaking to nodded, not looking very happy. He had seen the look on Ben Cartwright's face as the rancher stalked away from the party, but was unable to tell why Ben was so unhappy or to even get close enough to try to find out. Hop Sing could only watch in helpless consternation as his employer and very good friend drove the family buggy away.

The way station manager was at an utter loss—why would Ben propose and then just leave before she could answer...without even saying goodbye? Then she recalled that Ben had seemed strangely distant ever since Becky came forward with the cake...the cake that had confirmed that Cassie was only thirty-four years old.

Surely _that _couldn't be it? Ben couldn't have been reacting to the age difference between the two of them...could he? Adam—during the early part of their acquaintance—had found out that Cassandra was only a couple of years older than he...and Adam surely must have told his father Cassie's true age once it became apparent that Ben was courting her...

Mustn't he have...?

"Oh, no!" the silver-and-gold-maned woman groaned. If Ben hadn't been aware of how old Cassie was, then that would definitely explain his behavior. He was probably seriously rethinking his proposal to her. Her heart quailed, but Cassandra's chin went up. No, she would _not_ despair. Ben was a wise man—he would be able to see that their age difference at this point in their lives did not matter. He just needed some time.

"Well..." the birthday girl laughed to herself, "...at least things can't possibly get worse..."

Then Cassandra turned around...and saw the all-out battle royale that had been her birthday party.

"WHY...YOU...YOU..." Parthena spluttered, causing some of the frosting to plop off her face and onto the front of her dress. There was an almighty screech and then the redhead leaped on the blond with a speed that prevented either Joe or Hoss from thwarting the attack.

Parthena and Becky were a blur of flailing limbs. Hoss inwardly mourned the loss of his cake, but he still dropped his plate and moved forward, trying to get the two young women apart. Unfortunately he was smacked in the side of his head with a haymaker that Parthena was trying to land on Becky and he stumbled at the unexpected blow...right into the back of Ezra Johnson, a man of slightly-less bulk than Hoss, but considerably more temper. Ezra wheeled about and slammed his own fist into the face of the second Cartwright son, whereupon Adam tried to intervene, but Ezra's companions immediately assumed that Adam was stepping in to strike Ezra and they automatically began brawling in their friend's defense.

Meanwhile, Joe was trying to pull Parthena away from Becky, but Parthena's father saw the notorious Cassanova of the Carson Valley putting his arms around the waist of his proper, virgin daughter while she was screaming bloody murder and surged forth to uphold Parthena's honor. Zach and a couple of Joe's friends likewise came forward to aid the youngest Cartwright, and so the battle escalated from there.

By the time Cassandra had become aware of the full-scale brawl spilling out of the way station and into its front yard, only she and Hop Sing—and perhaps a handful of other people—were the only ones in the group not involved with either trying to hit someone or dodging opponents' blows.

"My party!" Cassie gasped. "Hop Sing...what happened?"

"Not know for sure, Honorable Lady." the Chinese man responded, eying the melee. "Experience say Cartwright sons usually have answer." Cassandra's gray eyes darted to Hop Sing's face and saw that he was as much at a loss as she was. She frowned, then determinedly slipped through the fighting crowd, dodging blows and flying food, plates, cups and the occasional soaring person to inside the station and make her way to behind the counter, where she seized an item and made her way back to the door again, stepping over the threshold so that she was just outside.

Cassie growled as she levered the shotgun in her hand, pointed the barrel up in the air, and then fired the gun, the sudden tell-tale blast freezing everyone at the party in their tracks, as well as echoing out into the night...

BEN'S MIND WAS awash with bitter recrimination at himself because, in spite of his resolution to withdraw his offer to Cassandra, he was still selfishly wishing that there was, indeed, some way for him to marry her...he was positively aching to have her for his wife. His pace away from the station was steady but slow, designed to give him time to think about how he might set Cassie free without hurting her too badly. Then he had to chuckle. He was arrogantly assuming a lot, wasn't he? He was assuming that the feisty station manager was going to accept his proposal...for all he knew, Cassandra Callahan may have been on the verge of telling Ben that he was a randy old goat who would have to do his rutting elsewhere.

No...that was vulgar and something that Cassie would never do. No, Cassandra would likely have dismissed him without the goat reference, laughing at how foolish Ben was to think such a vibrant woman as herself may have been attracted to him at all.

Paradoxically, however, his ego kicked in at this point: and just why _wouldn't _Cassandra be attracted to him? Fifty-three wasn't _that _old, and Ben was still in prime physical condition...not to mention owning a ranch the size of the Ponderosa! He was an excellent prospect—he had been dodging the attentions of many women before Cassie had come along.

Ben reined the horses drawing the buggy to a halt, annoyed at the emotional teeter-totter he was indulging in. Yes, he was a good marital catch...and, yes...he was nineteen years older than Cassandra, too. Putting aside everything else in the equation, Ben forced himself to examine the true reason why he was running away from her now—because that was, indeed, what he was doing: _running away._ The rancher drew in his breath.

He was _afraid_...afraid that, in the inevitable passage of time, the age difference between himself and Cassandra would cause her to stop loving him...and if that happened, Ben knew he would suffer for it. He was afraid of the pain such a development might cause, for he would lose yet another wife, but would have to accept the responsibility that her loss would be due to failure on his own part—the failure to anticipate that Cassie would prefer a husband closer to her own age.

But then Ben recalled the way the woman with the silver-and-gold hair had always addressed him, treated him...looked at him and touched him. Nothing during any of those times—not even when she took him to task for using questionable language in front of her children—had ever led him to believe that Cassandra was a woman who would be unkind...nor would she have agreed to let Ben court her unless it was something she truly wanted.

"Benjamin Cartwright," he spoke softly into the night, "You _are _an old fool...underestimating Cassandra this way."

Shaking his snowy head, the eldest Cartwright turned the buggy around and started to drive back to the station. He had gone no more than a half-mile when he heard a sound that instantly encased his heart in the icy grip of fear:

A single shotgun blast.

CHAPTER TEN

"WHAT IN THE bloody blue blazes is going on here???" Cassandra Callahan, her recently-fired shotgun still pointing up in the air, roared her demand. Joe, with one upraised fist frozen in mid-swing, blinked, noting that Cassie had a voice commanding enough to be on a par with Pa's.

"_She _started it!" The shrill declaration was shrieked from one side of the room. The way station manager lowered the shotgun, tucking it under her right arm, and eyed the frosting-bespattered, red-headed creature who now stood in a rigid stance and pointed an accusing finger at her daughter Rebecca. For her part, Becky was fussing with the torn left shoulder of what used to be a rather pretty pink gown.

"Gabriel? Naomi? Where are you?" Cassandra called, registering that she didn't see any of the youngest children who had been at the party. From behind the counter, as well as through the doorway that led to the kitchen of the way station, there appeared those youngsters.

"We're here, Mama," Gabriel said, "Miss Harris had us go back here once everything started." Indeed, the jet-tressed schoolmarm also rose from behind the counter. Hoss, who had been anxiously scanning the now-calm room himself, smiled in relief—then winced, as he had a split lip.

"Thank you, Miss Harris." the silver-and-gold-haired woman told Mercy, who nodded back. Cassandra looked around at the wreckage of her station's public room, pointing out one or two people who needed some extra tending thanks to the blows suffered during the spirited brawl. Then she turned her silver gray gaze onto the young woman accusing Becky.

"She...she attacked me for no reason!" Parthena cried, then burst into hysterical tears, throwing herself into her slightly-battered father's arms. The mustachioed man glared at Cassie.

It was at this point that the racing Cartwright buggy pulled into the front yard of the way station and Ben sprang from the vehicle, his dark eyes searching the knot of people crowded around the door there. He pushed his way through the crowd to stand behind a thankfully-unharmed Cassandra as she stood just inside the station, just in time to hear:

"Have you no control over your own child, Miss Callahan?" Peter Applegate demanded. "For her to openly attack my sweet, innocent angel in such a flagrantly violent manner..!" The birthday guest of honor speared the man with a single telling look that made him fluster to a halt, then she turned her attention to Becky once more.

"Rebecca, please tell me what happened." Cassandra bade the girl calmly. The younger blond swallowed, her expression showing some distress before she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

"Mama," Becky answered, "I...gave her a piece of cake." Cassie's eyebrow lifted and her eyes never wavered from Becky's own sapphire ones, so the younger female added: "In her face."

"Is that all?" her adopted mother asked. "You just..._suddenly _decided to push a piece of cake into Parthena Applegate's face?"

"Yes, ma'am." Becky said firmly. Joe was flabbergasted—Becky was deliberately leaving out the motive behind her actions and making it appear as though she were the one who instigated the fight.

"No, ma'am!" Joe blurted out. "Becky, you know what Parthena said about your mother!" The younger blond's sapphire eyes glared at the youngest Cartwright brother—Becky did not appreciate that Joe was throwing light on the aspersions cast upon Cassandra.

"If you please, Miss Callahan," Mercy spoke up, "That isn't all that happened. Young Miss Applegate said some rather uncharitable things first. I believe that nothing would have happened had not she included insulting you as well as Becky." Cassandra drew in a breath and let it out again, clearly contemplating exactly what to do in the circumstances. Whatever she might have been about to say was interrupted by the nasally voice of Ralph Foster.

"I've witnessed enough." the councilman said, still in the midst of using a handkerchief to ineffectually dab at a stain of some sort on the front of his jacket. "It is clear to me, Miss Callahan, that you are utterly unable to maintain basic discipline over the children in your care. Obviously it is impossible for an unmarried woman with no previous experience in either child-rearing or running a business to do both here in the Nevada Territory. I am going to be recommending that the Virginia City government take steps to remove the minors from your care until such time as we deem it proper that you may have custody of them again...if ever."

The words didn't sound good to Gabriel and Naomi—the twins immediately drew closer together and tightly clasped hands. Rebecca's eyes widened in horror and she gasped. Zach—who had been getting up off the floor and dusting himself off—stiffened and then launched himself in the direction of the pompous official, but Hoss caught him in mid-flight and easily held the struggling boy.

"Let me go, Hoss!" Zach demanded. "I wanna punch that blowhard silly!" The middle Cartwright son shook his head.

"Ain't gonna do no good, Zach." he told the boy. "No matter how much better _you _might feel after doin' it." He shot a reproachful look at Foster, but the councilman was simply looking at Cassie in a smug manner. Ben noticed that her own gaze dropped down to the shotgun she still had in her possession, and knew that she was flirting with the idea of blasting the officious twit where he stood. However, her common sense prevailed.

"What happened here has nothing to do with how well I discipline my children, Mr. Foster." the way station manager told him coldly. "And you may threaten me from now until Doomsday, sir, but there is still nothing in this world that would induce me to ever consider accepting _you _as a suitor." There was a nervous titter that ran through the crowd and Foster's face grew red at this very public rejection.

"Then you may resign yourself to being a _childless _spinster, Miss Callahan." the councilman grated. "I know that the city council will agree with me that an unmarried woman cannot adequately raise a family and run this way station, too." He stormed towards the rear entrance, the crowd parting to let him leave. "Good evening, then." Foster swept from the public room, leaving silence behind him. Cassie released her pent-up breath, then addressed the guests remaining:

"I want to thank everyone for coming tonight." she said graciously. "I do appreciate the sentiments expressed by you all...but this party is over now. Thank you again, and everyone please have a safe journey home."

"Cassandra." Ben spoke her name urgently, and the woman with the silver-and-gold hair whirled around, her face clearly showing relief and gratitude that he was there with her now. The eldest Cartwright reached out and clasped her shoulders.

"Ben!" she said, smiling. "I thought you'd gone."

"I came back...I need an answer to my question." he replied, but was puzzled to see the smile fade from Cassandra's face.

"Ben...I can't accept your offer now." she said, clearly distressed. "If I did, you'd forever think that I was doing so in order to keep the children!" Ben's eyes searched her earnest expression, then his own smile returned, brighter than ever.

"No, I wouldn't." he assured her. "I definitely had the feeling that you were going to say 'yes' before we were...so rudely interrupted. You _were _going to, weren't you, Cassandra?"

"Yes, but...but you left." she pointed out, the hurt she'd felt at that abandonment clearly showing in her tone. "You...thought I was too young." Her face fell.

"No...I thought _I_ was too old." he corrected her, then tilted her face back up to his with a single finger under her chin. _"That _was why I'd left—I was running scared because I _am _older than you. But I realized that you, yourself, had already known how much older I was than you—and yet you still wanted me. If you still want me now, I still want to marry you. I love you, Cassandra, and I have faith that you're the type of woman who would not marry for convenience. Silver gray eyes blinked incredulously up at Ben for a moment, and then emotion completely illuminated Cassandra's entire face.

"I love you, too, Ben...of course I'll marry you." she told him sincerely.

Ben could never be sure of it later, but either he or she moved, or perhaps they both did at the same time—but the exact circumstances of which of them did what didn't matter. What _did _matter was that she was in his arms and matching the eager passion with which he was kissing her.

Adam, after helping a bystander untangle himself from one of the chairs he'd been thrown into, had drawn closer to his father and Cassie as they had spoken and was the closest to the couple when Ben kissed his fiancée. There was that unique expression on the eldest Cartwright brother's face as he reached out and caught the shotgun that fell from Cassandra's hand when she let it go in order to slide her fingers into Ben's hair while he kissed her...technically neutral and yet Adam's expression had the ghost of a rather smug smile just hovering over his lips.

Adam shouldered the shotgun and sauntered back over to where his brothers gaped at the sight of their father openly kissing a lady...and in public, too!

"Close your mouths, gentlemen," Older Brother reminded them, "You're catching flies." Both of his siblings did as he said. Hoss gave Adam a penetrating look.

"You _knew _Miss Cassie was younger than she looked, didn't you, Adam?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, Hoss," Adam said with a nod, "It...sort of came out a couple of months after I first met her. I didn't know her precise age...but I realized that Cassie was much closer to my age than to Pa's, in spite of having all that gray hair."

"Why didn't you tell Pa—especially after he said he was gonna ask her to marry him?" Joe asked.

"Because neither her age nor Pa's had anything to do with their being in love." Adam replied sagely. Hoss glanced back to where their father was still in the middle of his embrace with Cassandra.

"Yeah...that much is obvious." he agreed, chuckling. Joe squinted at the couple, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by a question from Zach, who now joined his future stepbrothers.

"How can somebody as old as your Pa hold his breath that long..?" he asked. The Cartwright boys rolled their eyes, then Adam directed the group to start to help cleaning up the wreckage of some of the furniture that had gotten damaged during the fight.

"Miss Harris..?" Gabriel, who was standing still holding his sister's hand next to the schoolteacher, looked up at the woman. Mercy knelt so that she was more eye-to-eye with the little boy.

"Yes, Gabriel?"

"Is Mr. Cartwright gonna be our new Papa?" he asked, with Naomi nodding her own agreement to the question being asked. Mercy looked over at where Ben and Cassandra finally broke off their kiss, much to the delight of the applauding crowd around them. There were even a couple of whistles as well as an enthusiastic hoot.

"I'd say that it's a very distinct possibility, Gabriel." the schoolteacher said with a smile.

"Very good answer." Becky's voice approved as she joined the trio, then she directly addressed the twins. "Okay, you two, in spite of everything, there's still cake left. You can each have a piece with some milk after we help clean up the place a bit, all right?"

Everyone worked together to get most of the damage squared away. Becky was called upon by her mother to recite how she had erred and what she intended to do in order to make amends. The girl's self-induced penance was a public apology to Parthena as well as being personally responsible for replacing Parthena's frosting-smeared gown by sewing her another one. The redhead at first disparaged Becky, but Peter Applegate chided his daughter, reminding her that a young lady was supposed to be gracious. After that, Parthena had no choice but to accept Becky's apology and offer of sewing her a new gown.

Later that evening, when the only people left at the station were the Cartwrights and the Callahans, Ben took Cassandra by the hand and drew her outdoors, to a swinging bench that was behind the station and near the second log cabin—the one used for overnight guests. He sat down on the bench and pulled Cassandra onto the seat beside him, where she instinctively nestled into his side as his arm went around her shoulders.

"This..." the blond beside Ben sighed as she brought her left hand up to his chest, "...has been the best birthday in my entire life." The rancher chuckled, taking her hand in his right one.

"Despite having two tables and almost half a dozen chairs destroyed in a brawl?" he teased her, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her palm.

"Yes." she replied instantly, smiling. Ben continued to hold her hand in his, his thumb gently stroking the inside of her palm as he spoke.

"And you're certain you don't mind marrying me when I'm so much older than you are?" Her fingers closed around his thumb, startling him into turning his head to look into her eyes.

"If I were, say, eighteen or twenty to your almost thirty-eight or forty," she told him honestly, "Then, yes, there _would _have been much to mind, as that kind of a union would be between a relatively untried girl and an older man. However...while you _are _almost twenty years older, I am thirty-four years old, Ben. Hardly a child. You are, in the eyes of society, taking pity on a spinster who has been a good thirteen years on the shelf, so to speak." He opened his mouth to protest her choice of words, but she used the index finger of the hand that was gripping his thumb to keep him from speaking.

"Ah, ah! I'm not actually thinking of myself like that, my dearest," she insisted, "I'm merely telling you what most people who don't know us would be thinking. I will just say again that I love you, Ben Cartwright, and—while we will doubtless be a most intriguing couple to celebrate a silver anniversary, I am quite certain that our golden anniversary celebration won't have as many people dwelling on our difference in age."

Ben's lips moved against her fingertip in a gentle caress before his hand pulled hers away, lifting it to cradle the cheek he nuzzled against it, his teeth flashing as he smiled.

"Golden anniversary, huh?" he echoed with a touch of laughter in his voice. "Yes, Cassandra...I can't wait to see the impression we would make on our silver and gold anniversaries." Then he grinned from ear to ear.

"What?" Cassandra asked, immediately not trusting the man.

"Oh, nothing," he assured her, love and humor making his dark eyes shine, "It's just that I was struck by the thought that men have come west to Nevada and California seeking their fortunes by discovering silver and gold...but the silver and gold that I've managed to claim is far more precious." As he spoke, Ben's fingertips tenderly swept over the silken, glittering hair of his bride-to-be.

The only sounds for a long while after he made that statement was the cacophony of crickets, night creatures and the occasional sigh of the wind through the pines because Ben and Cassandra's mouths were otherwise engaged.


End file.
